Freshman
by zoey21q
Summary: Lori thought she was going to waste her high school life away alone. That is, until she got lost in the halls one day and stumbled upon a group of people that, just three short years ago, were thinking pretty much the same thing.
1. Chess Club?

**The way I see it, they won't be able to keep Glee alive without hiring—I mean enrolling—some freshmen. This is my idea for how it should go, with all the big, bad, scary seniors in the club, and one, lonely, timid, new girl. WARNING: Super character favoritism going down here! We only really meet a few people, but almost everyone is mentioned…almost. **

_Freshman._ That was the only thought in her mind. _I'm a freshman: Bottom of the totem pole, omega of the pack, a no one. _Her mantra had continued in her head like this all day, right up until now, as she stumbled her way through the crowded halls on her way to chess club. _Anonymous is safe, nondescript is comfortable…I am a freshman. _ Suddenly, she found herself having turned down a barren hallway, away from the hustle and bustle of the recently let out school. She followed the map she had been given that day to the best of her abilities, but found herself winding through even emptier and darker halls, until she was completely, one hundred percent sure she was lost…and would be very late to chess.

Almost giving up hope, she rounded a final hallway, and was prepared to call her older brother to come find her when she heard a noise. It was a nice noise, not scary in the least, coming from a classroom at the very end of a hall. A single ceiling light was lit over the doorway. Frantically, she began to jog towards the door, hoping that whoever was in there would have neither the desire to beat her up, or ask too many questions.

As the distance between her and the door grew smaller, it was suddenly very clear that the sound coming room the room was music. She slowed, tilting her head to get a better listen. Someone was playing piano very loudly, and very well. The song, though she couldn't name it, was familiar, and certainly not a song you would have expected to be played on a piano. She inched closer to the door, before leaning on the lockers behind her and relaxing, trying to think of the name of the song, as the mysterious pianist played on. Random lyrics were coming to her, but the name still wouldn't come. That is, until someone said it.

"'All you Need is Love,' Kurt?" the voice of a girl chimed.

"Yes." Kurt replied.

She was taken back by the sound of his voice, it was very high pitched, but after the shock wore off, she found it very pleasant. It continued to protest, as the piano cut off.

"I've taken a liking to the Beatles, recently. What can I say? It speaks to me." There was something about his tone that made her think he was smiling.

So she sat there for a minute, listening to this Kurt person sing in his, high, pretty voice, imagining what the people in the room looked like. When she could not think, she stood and brushed off her pants, and had an idea.

Acting very lost and very helpless she knocked on the door of the music room almost immediately after he finished singing.

"Very nice, Kurt. Let me get this, guys, and I'll be right back. Puck, if you don't mind, you're next," a deep and much older voice said.

Suddenly, she tensed. A teacher was the last thing she had been expecting. When the door opened and a very tall, thin, vested man opened the door, she froze.

"Hi," he said, looking down at her. Never before in her life had she felt this small, this minuscule.

"Um…" she began. "Um, I'm looking for room number…" and as she shifted he books in her hands to reach the note she had been given, they all fell to the ground. Three heavy books, two copies of the school map, three copies of her schedule, and a folder already stuffed with loose papers fell to the floor and went flying down the hall.

She was suddenly very aware that at least ten heads were leaning over to get look through the door around their teacher. Only a few were distinct enough to catch her attention though, as she fumbled to assemble herself: a solid, built guy, probably a senior, with a thick Mohawk had his left eyebrow raised in a way that with even a glance, made her blush; a boy with big, thick rimmed glasses sitting in a wheelchair, glimpsed at her quickly before returning to who she assumed was his girlfriend; a petite girl with sleek curtains of black hair striped with royal blue, gazed curiously at her with eyes caked in matching blue eye shadow; and a guy with a pale face, who at least by appearance seemed much younger than the rest, wearing a black bowtie and off white button up shirt, craned his neck to see around the door frame, almost tipping out of his chair in the process.

In a glance, she gathered this information and held it with her as she scrambled clumsily to pick up her papers, trying to match the voices she had heard before. Alas, before she could draw any conclusions, the curly haired teacher had handed her back a stack of papers.

"Um, thanks," she said, looking down the whole time. But suddenly, a spark of courage forced her to look up, jumping from set of eyes to set of eyes, and back to those of the teacher in front of her. "If you don't mind me asking, what is this? I mean, I know we have a band…and stuff, but what—um—what do—" she stumbled awkwardly over her words. Finally, she just blurt it out.

"I'm really sorry if I interrupted, but this looks a whole lot better than the chess club meeting I was supposed to be at twenty minutes ago."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw many of the faces looking at her smile, and heard the one with a mohawk laugh, "_Pfft_, freshman."

"I'm Mr. Shue," the teacher said, offering a hand to shake. "I teach Spanish, and…uh, _supervise_ the glee club."

"And that would be us," piped up the guy in the bowtie, giving a curious kind of half wave as he clung to the back of a chair.

So he had been the singer. Even as she tried not to judge too quickly, she couldn't help but admit to herself that it certainly fit.

"Glee club? Like, show choir, singing, dancing, glee club? We have a _glee club_?" She pried, intimidation drowned out by curiosity. Mohawk snorted once again and put his hands behind his head. "_Definitely _freshman."

"Yeah," Mr. Shue said.

Suddenly, she was filled with a rush of excitement.

"When are auditions?" she practically screamed.

"Well, I'll put the sing up sheet on the board next week, and usually I have them within a week or two of that, depending on how many—" and he was cut off by bowtie-guy.

"C'mon, Mr. Shue, most of us are seniors already and it's not like graduation is getting any farther away. We need to recruit new members now if there's even the slightest chance that glee is going to survive after we're gone." He crossed one leg over the other in his chair and linked his fingers around his knee. "Audition her now. Maybe she has musically inclined friends, too. It can't hurt."

The once appreciation towards bowtie-guy had faded into resentfulness. As much as he had tried to help, she hadn't sung out loud in weeks, and never for more than three people. After a minute of awkward silence, he must have decided that he blank stare was going nowhere, and tried to shake her from her fog.

"Kurt Hummel, by the way," he said kindly.  
>"I know," she said quickly. She corrected herself when she was met with a puzzled look. "I mean I heard." When his face didn't change, she tried to explain. "In the hall...I was lost and I heard you guys talking...and you singing...and stuff." She cleared her throat. "You're really good, by the way."<br>At the same time, they both flushed a light pink. Kurt turned to the two girls behind him.  
>"I like her. She's got a good ear." He smiled a blindingly white smile. "The one thing she doesn't have is a name." He looked at her intently, one eyebrow raised.<br>"Oh! My name is Lori." And she forced a smile through he nerves.  
>"Well, Lori, if you'd like to audition now, you can." Mr. Shue suddenly reappeared. "But you'll have to pick from one of these songs." He dropped a pile of papers on the piano, making the bespectacled man on the bench jump. "These are ones that Brad can whip up now without too much prep. Choose wisely, they've all been done at least once in here, so you could definitely get on someone's good side today."<br>She felt very much like a small mammal being stalked by some kind of carnivorous beast as she fumbled through the stack. Suddenly, the title of her favorite song caught her eye, and she handed the packet to the pianist. He smiled as he cracked his knuckles and rolled up his sleeves. She got the feeling that this 'Brad' was a man if few words. Then he started to play.  
>The second the very first chord sprang from the keys, an appraising smile spread across Kurt's face. Next to him, the chin of a short girl with long brown hair and plain clothes, dropped. Trying to ignore their reactions, she sang the first verse of the song, focusing only on the memory in her head of the last time she has heard it live.<br>_"Something has changed within me, something us not the same. I'm through if playing by the rules of someone else's game... "_  
>Not focusing to hard on the words, she let her eyes explore the room, resting on a number of interesting things: two trophies, one very small, and one very large, sat next to each other by the window; the unpolished and well-loved top of the piano that looked like it had been through hell (she thought she saw a footprint); and the strange look on Kurt's face.<br>Admittedly, there were a number of strange things to notice about Kurt, beginning with clothes and ending with his hair (which were both far too nice to belong on a high school guy), but the way he was staring at her, portrayed to her an unmistakable air of something like wisdom. Maybe it wasn't wisdom, per say, she thought, but just an overall knowing. That was it. There was a way his blue eyes—very, very blue eyes—bore through her that made her feel like she knew him.

Feeling more and more like a creeper with every observation, she ripped her gaze away from the guy sitting in front if her and made mental notes on everyone else in the room. She noted the diversity of the room, and she saw a few familiar faces. He brother's basketball team had suffered through a terrible season a few years ago, when the tall and muscular guy in the back had been on the team. A small blonde to his left was recognizable from the yearbooks her brother brought home. She was obviously a cheerleader. Everyone else was nondescript, blending into the walls and blurring together.  
>Suddenly she realized the song had finished, and she stood awkwardly, wringing her hands, next to the piano. No one said anything. For a minute she felt like running, never returning to that room again, but then Mr. Shue spoke.<br>"As apposed I still am to impromptu auctions—and I don't want the becoming a habit, guys—that was...really good Lori. Welcome to the glee club."  
>She smiled nervously.<br>"Take a seat on the risers, Lori...Alright, Puck, you're up. What did you fix for us over the summer...?" 

GlEeGlEe~GlEeGlEe~GlEeGlEe~GlEeGlEe~GlEeGlEe~GlEeGlEe~GlEeGlEe~GlEe

She watched the new girl like a hawk, as she nervously took her seat on the other side of the choir room. When she had first walked in, she had posed no threat, seemed like just a passer by, but when Mr. Shue offered her an audition—and she took it—an alarm had gone off in her head. Try as she might, there was an instinct in her to fight for attention that she could not suppress.  
>"You were uncharacteristically quiet, Rachel." Kurt whispered over Puck's absolutely <em>rousing <em>acoustics.  
>"There was nothing to say." Rachel crossed her arms and turned her head.<br>"Scared, huh?" He pressed on. "She sang your song, and she sang it well."  
>Rachel refused to look at him.<br>"You'll have a legacy, Rachel, don't worry."  
>She turned her head a little, scowling skeptically at him.<br>"But the future is now." He pointed a finger at Lori in the corner. "You've got your life ahead of you...she's got high school."  
>Rachel sighed begrudgingly.<br>"I'm not happy about it," she said. "But you've got a point. Besides, look at her," and she pointed over to Lori, hugging a notebook, staring at Puck. "She's obviously helpless."

"You can say that again—" But Kurt was cut off.

"She needs guidance."

"You bet your—"

"I can take her under my wing!" Rachel said, just a little too loudly.

"No way! You sat there like a lump when she came in, no doubt plotting how to get rid of her! She's mine."

"That is, if she even wants our help." Rachel poked him hard in the shoulder.

"Please, take another look." And once again, he pointed over to the corner, where Lori sat wide-eyed as Finn stumbled his way through a song he had very obviously thought up on the spot. "She'll die out there without me…or worse, actually go to that chess club meeting."

Rachel sighed, fully aware of the harsh realities being a loner would inflict upon anyone.

"Fine," she said. "If you feel the need to do this, by all means, go right ahead." She rolled her eyes as Lori clapped enthusiastically, her frizzy hair bouncing. "But I'm warning you, I think you scared her a little."

"Fear? Reverence? It's all the same to me."

"Good luck with that policy," Rachel said as she made her way to the front.

GlEeGlEe~GlEeGlEe~GlEeGlEe~GlEeGlEe~GlEeGlEe~GlEeGlEe~GlEeGlEe~GlEe

As she left, Mr. Shue had told her that they meet every other day, and that she should invite friends to come, and that being in glee was the thing to do.

"Thanks, Mr. Sh—" And she was cut off when an arm wrapped around her shoulder.

"Hey, there," Kurt said. "You know, two years ago, I sang "Defying Gravity" for glee."

"But there's a high—!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know, long story, might tell you someday—Anyway!—seeing as we have such similar tastes, I thought it would be only appropriate to practice together some time!"

She stood there, stunned.

"Unless you have some kind of crazy, jam packed social calendar…?" But before he could even finish the sentence, she was shaking her head.

"I'm not exactly the kind of person who has a lot of activities…or friends…" She hung her head as they walked down the hall.

"Then you'll fit in great here." When they came to a main hallway, he turned left and she continued right. "Look for me on Facebook; we'll set something up!" he called down the hall.

"Okay!" she called back. She took a few more steps towards the front of the building before turning back and calling, "Thanks!" But he had disappeared down another hall.

GlEeGlEe~GlEeGlEe~GlEeGlEe~GlEeGlEe~GlEeGlEe~GlEeGlEe~GlEeGlEe~GlEe

**I know, shameless favoritism, but hey, what can I say? Possible Klaine stuff in the future…definitely several little girlie crushes (Hmm, I wonder who that could be?)…possibility for Rachel bashing, just because I really am not very fond of her…definitely territorial kind of drama…I've been thinking of stuff for Brad to—gasp—say! I have good stuff coming up. I hope you enjoyed it! **

**P.S. Every time you review, my heart grows a little bit…And Blaine gets a little closer to making an appearance. (PLEASE REVIEW!) **


	2. Practice

It wasn't hard to find Kurt online, and after an hour or two of awkward chatting filled with not-so-sincere 'lol's and several consecutive, 'what's up?'s, they had solidified a plan for them to meet in the auditorium during third period the next day.

First and second period of that Wednesday were torture: she bit her nails nervously all through class, and was terribly preoccupied with the thought of practice that morning. To be honest with herself, she hadn't consciously practiced much of anything in her life. She had never played an instrument, and though she dabbled in table tennis for a while, she never got better, so she couldn't exactly call that practice. Even more nerve-racking, was the thought that she would not be practicing alone. The fact that, indeed, she would very soon be in an empty auditorium, with a guy she had met yesterday, who happened to be a senior, and also insanely talented, clouded her mind all morning.

When she walked into the auditorium that morning, the place looked deserted. All but one bank of lights were off, and it was completely silent. She walked down the center aisle and put her backpack in one of the seats in the front row.

"Hello," a cold, distant voice said. After the shock, she recognized it immediately.

"Hi…" she began, never learning the girl's name.

"Rachel Berry," she said, sliding down from her perch on the edge of the stage.

"Hi, Rachel. Kurt said he'd meet me here today…do you know if he had to change plans?" She was getting a little frantic.

"Oh, no. Kurt will be here, don't worry." She took a step closer to her. From what Lori could tell, they were almost exactly the same height, which made her only slightly less intimidating. "But I'm going to make this loud and clear: I don't know what you expect to get from glee, popularity, a boyfriend, whatever, but what you need to understand is that this is my thing. I have the solos; I suggest the songs. Understood?" By now they were toe to toe, staring at each other intently.

"Of course!" Lori squealed nervously. "I-I am not looking for anything out of this than a few friends and a place to spend my afternoons. Please, have the solos! Just auditioning in front of you guys in the choir room…I probably couldn't take any more people."

Rachel softened, a satisfied smile stretching across her face. "Good luck," she said, and walked briskly towards the door. When she reached to open it, though, it flew out from under her hands; Rachel had to grab the frame to keep from falling.

Kurt shuffled in around her, a set of iPod speakers under his arm, and an extension cord flung over his shoulder. Once again she noted what he was wearing: a light blue button up, not very different from the one the day before; a long, white, skinny tie; a white, very Mr. Shue-esque vest; shiny black shoes and the tightest jeans she had ever seen a man wear. Ever.

"I see you've met Rachel," he said, setting the speakers on the stage and searching the wall for a plug. "That's our version of filtering out the weak ones: if they survive a one-on-one with her, they'll probably make it." Lori stood frozen in the spot Rachel had cornered her into. "Let me guess," he said as he plugged in the cord. "She got in your face, and was all, 'I get the solos! I pick the songs!' Blah, blah, blah."

"Nail on the head." Lori stepped towards the stage, relaxing slightly to know that she was not the only one who had endured Rachel's scorn.

"You're lucky, trust me." And then he mumbled something under his breath that she couldn't quite hear.

"Sorry, what?" She asked, jumping to sit on the edge of the stage.

"I said, you're lucky. _Very_ lucky. She sent someone to a crack house last year."

Lori's eyes grew wide as Kurt hauled himself on stage, too. _Crack house?_

She stood, and watched Kurt as he fiddled with the speakers. Suddenly he stood up and held out his hand. "iPod, please," he said.

Lori was taken back. Instinctively, her hand flew to her pocket. "What?" she asked again.

"Hand over your iPod; I need to figure out what I've got to work with."

Quickly, she grabbed her iPod and pulled out the headphones, shoving them back into her pocket in knotted mess. She could see him click it on, but when he went to slide open the lock, he paused.

"Josh Groban," he commented on her screen, turning the face of the device towards her. She nodded quickly, blushing a little, but all he said was, "Very nice, very nice…" before handing it back, a keypad asking for an entry code.

"Oh, 9-8-7-6," she said quickly, before adding, "I trust you won't steal my iPod?"

"Nah." Once again, he raised his eyebrows in question, and turned it towards her. "Josh Groban, and Phantom of the Opera?" Through the apps, she could see the drawing of a mask and rose on black. "I can't wait to see what you've got in your library…."

After a few seconds of awkward silence broken only by snorts of muffled laughter from Kurt, he headed back over to the speakers and plugged the iPod in.

"You know the lyrics to all of these songs, yes?"

"Pretty much."

"Very good. Now, take that mic over there and plug it into the wall behind it."

She did as she was instructed, tapped the top of it to test, and removed the cordless instrument from the stand.

"Alrighty," Kurt said, jumping off the stage, a rectangular grey object in his hands. "You know Pink?"

"'Course I know Pink," she replied hastily into the mic as he walked towards the back of the auditorium.

"You _like_ Pink?"

"'Course I like Pink."

"'Raise Your Glass'?" he asked, and a surge of energy passed through her.

"Hit it."

He pointed the object at the speakers and the room filled with sound.

"_Right, right turn off the lights, we gonna lose our minds tonight…"_

Suddenly, she was no longer on the stage in her new school, being watched intently by a near stranger in skinny jeans, but in her room, in front of her mirror, singing into a hairbrush.

"…_Dirty little freaks…!"_

Suddenly, the music stopped, but she didn't. The abrupt lack of sound brought her back to reality, and for the first time, really, she listened to her own voice bouncing off the walls. She sounded…good! And apparently, Kurt agreed. Leaning on the back wall, he was bobbing his head, his eyes closed, and his arms crossed. He had in his hand the small grey object pointed at the speakers again, and she immediately recognized it as a remote. He had shut the music off on her. Not knowing quite how to react to this, she didn't. Instead, she finished the song and stood, panting, mic in hand, waiting to hear what he had to say.

"Not bad."

She smiled awkwardly back.

"Do you know what you do when you sing?"

"Huh?" she asked.

"You know, you move _a lot _when you're singing. I was getting tired just watching you." He began making his way back down the aisle.

"I do?" She was puzzled.

"Oh, fantastic! You don't even realize it!" He sat on the edge and motioned for her to join him. "You zone out. I can tell. You're here, singing, but your brain is somewhere else, doing goodness knows what." He looked at her for a moment. "Even back in the choir room, you're eyes were all over the place. You need to be in the moment. I don't care if there are a million naked old people in the audience," he laughed as she curled her lip in disgust. "That's where your eyes, and your mind, need to be."

The auditorium grew very quiet. Her mind drifted away again, resting on the memory of Rachel screaming in her face.

"Who else do I need to watch out for in glee?" she asked, in a desperate attempt at conversation.

"Eh. Rachel's really the only dangerous one, unless you count Puck." She sated confused and silent at him. "Mohawk," he said, pointing to his head. "He can get mean. Threw me in a dumpster once…"

She furrowed her brow as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

"But that's in the past. He's fairly mild mannered now." He rubbed his chin, thinking.

"Who else?"

"You want like a list?" He raised his eyebrow curiously.

Feeling very stupid, she nodded her head slowly. Kurt took a deep breath and began.

"Finn is the big one that Rachel's dating. Kinda looks dazed half the time. Yeah. Um…Artie's the guy in the wheelchair with the big glasses. He's dating Brittany, the ditz of a former cheerleader who used to be on the squad with Santana before they got kicked off." He took a deep breath before continuing.

She felt like she should have been writing this down.

"Uh…Mike and Tina are our little Asian love-muffins that make everyone else feel awkward because their relationship is freakin' _perfect!"_ He rolled his eyes disdainfully. "Sam is the newest football guy with the blonde hair and giant mouth…Quinn is little Miss perfect—also blonde— Lauren is the mean one who hangs out with Puck, and Mercedes is my best friend. If Rachel doesn't have the solo it's because she couldn't quite belt it like Mercedes." He nodded, content with his explanation.

She stared at him, more confused than ever.

"Questions? Comments? Concerns?" He smiled cheekily.

"Yeah…where do I fit in with all of this?"

"In the back row, with me and Mercedes, being generally critical and—"

His phone rang and he jumped, stopping mid-sentence. Try as she might, she couldn't see who it was from, though Kurt seemed very excited to have received it: he smiled as his eyes scanned the screen of his phone, and at one point blushed bright pink, stifling a laugh. After he had typed a hasty reply, he put his phone back in his pocket with a sigh and smiled to himself for a moment. As much as she didn't want to interrupt his bliss, she couldn't help but ask,

"Girlfriend?"

He bit his lip, covering a smile, and shook his head 'no'.

"You're lying," she said, pointing at him. "I may not know a lot about this stuff, but I've watched enough romantic comedies in my life to know when someone is in love. And dude, I have never in my entire life seen a person with the words 'love struck' so clearly tattooed across their face than you just now."

He continued to shake his head.

"Whoever that text was from was none of your business. I don't go around asking you about your personal life!"

"I told you my iPod password!"

"Oh my gosh!" he exclaimed sarcastically.

"I'm a freshman who should be part of the Western Ohio State Chess league right now. Do you think there's anything more to my private life than the stuff on my iPod?"

"Point taken," he said through his chuckles.

Just then the bell rang.

"Glee tomorrow," she said, slipping to the floor off the stage. Once again, they headed off their separate ways, until she turned around and shouted across the auditorium. "WHAT'S HER NAME?"

"Look, Lori," Kurt said, turning around and still smiling. "I'm not telling you who texted me, but I swear to you, I swear on _my life_, that it was _not_ my girlfriend." And with that, he pushed open the doors and left her alone in the auditorium.

Still grinning, she left, too, mumbling under her breath, "_So_ his girlfriend…."


	3. Two

When the final bell rang the next day, she threw her geometry book into her bag and headed towards the desolate hallway she had stumbled upon only two days before. Looking frantically back and forth from the map to the quickly emptying halls before her, she traipsed onward. Finally, she came across a familiar sight: a barren hall with just one light on. She jogged towards it and opened the door tentatively, just enough so that she could get in. She found herself once again in the same, awkward position as she had on Tuesday: next to the piano, ringing her hands, all eyes on her. As she moved towards her seat in the back, she tried to match names with faces. Puck sat in the opposite corner, tuning his guitar, Tina and Mike were talking very quickly about something she couldn't hear, Sam was sitting quietly off to the side, seeming to be taking a nap, and Rachel sat in the very center of the front row, watching her.

Finally a friendly face caught her eye. Kurt was sitting in the very back, his phone in one hand, patting a chair beside him with the other.

"Hi," she said, sitting down and dropping her backpack at her feet.

"Hello," he replied in a very singsong tone, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

How he managed this, she couldn't imagine, for once again he was wearing jeans that looked practically painted on. She doubted she could have even fit into them. He was smiling broadly, the way he had the other day in the auditorium…right after he had received another text message.

"Texting your _girlfriend?_" she asked, crossing her legs on the seat.

"Try again."

"Fine….Wait, where's Mr. Shue?" She was suddenly very aware of his absence, and felt a bit out of place without him. Just then the door opened, and everyone looked up. But instead of the friendly teacher, it was another girl. Smiling, she made her way over to Kurt and Lori, sitting on his opposite side.

"Lori, Mercedes. Mercedes, Lori." Kurt said casually. Both girls gave friendly smiles and waves over Kurt, before Mercedes suddenly noticed the same thing Lori had.

"Mr. Shue's not here yet?"

"Nope."

"Oh no…"

"My thoughts exactly."

"What's going on?" Lori chimed in, confused by what obviously only a long time member would understand.

"Whenever Mr. Shue's late," Kurt began. "It usually means he's got some kind of elaborate theme going on." He rolled his eyes.

"Theme…?" Lori was confused.

"He gives us little assignments between competitions. They're usually not bad…as long as he sticks to music from the past thirty years." Mercedes said.

"Oh." Then something hit her. "Wait, what do you mean about compe—"

But Mr. Shue burst into the room holding something behind his back, and began to talk.

"Alright, guys," he said energetically. "I don't know if I told you this already or not, but I spent my summer down in Georgia, where, between the airport and the hotel, I realized that we have been terribly neglecting the genre that is the root of modern American music." He paused for a moment and slipped an old, brown, cowboy hat onto his head. There was a unanimous groan from the room.

"Are you serious, Mr. Shue?" Rachel asked. "There could not be a genre more different from where my talents lie." She crossed her arms and stared with exasperation at him.

"Exactly. I want you guys to experiment! Try something outside of your comfort zone! We've done what, two country songs in here, maybe three depending on how you look at things? I spent three weeks _in a camper_ listening to nothing but country music this summer—drowning out a family reunion, if you must know—and I came to realize that we should do something with it. I'm not saying you have to go all Conway Twitty…"

'Who's that?'s and 'What did he just say?'s rumbled through the group.

"…There are plenty of modern, hip, popular country artists out there." He finished firmly and after a brief moment, protests stopped. After a few questions ("There's country stuff on iTunes, right?") the group dispersed.

"Same time tomorrow, Lori. In the auditorium." Kurt said as he turned and followed Mercedes out to the parking lot.

"See ya then!" she called over her shoulder.

GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE

That night she sat in her room, on her laptop, flipping through Taylor Swift songs on YouTube. Apparently, she was flipping through very loudly, because after only a few songs, her mother opened the door. Instinctively, she turned down the volume.

"I haven't heard you listening to Taylor Swift in a while," she said, leaning p against the doorframe.

"Yeah, well she's the only country artist I know and I need a song for practice with Kurt tomorrow." She continued to browse absentmindedly, unaware of the change in her mom's expression.

"Question:" she began, raising a finger. "Who's Kurt?"

"A dude…" Lori mumbled, still searching for a song.

"And what exactly are you 'practicing' with said dude?" Her mom seemed a bit angry.

"I don't know, that's why I gotta find a song."

"Stop." Her mom said, quietly, and Lori turned around to face her.

"_What?_"

"Explain, please." Her mom now had her arms crossed, and was standing in a very threatening way, just inside the doorway.

"I'm not in the chess club," Lori said blandly.

"That's fairly obvious."

"I'm in glee club." She spoke slowly, giving her mom time to digest the information.

"Continue." Her mom seemed to relax a little.

"And I practice every other day with Kurt."

"And Kurt is a dude…"

"Right."

After a moment of tense silence, her mother spoke again.

"And do you practice with anyone else?"

"No," she said carefully.

"Hm. And Kurt's a freshman…?" Her mother's eyebrows were raised in skepticism.

"No…" she said again, getting annoyed.

"Sophomore?" Her mother pressed on.

"Senior, Mom, he's a senior!" She threw her hands up in exasperation. "The other day, we met in the auditorium and he watched me sing and told me I zone out and move too much? Okay?"

"Okay…how did you meet him?"

"Oh, my gosh!" she groaned. "I got lost on the way to chess on Tuesday. I heard him singing and found the choir room. He convinced Mr. Shue to—"

"Mr. Shue, like your brother's old Spanish teacher, Mr. Shue?" Her mother had officially caught on.

"Yeah," she said coldly. "Anyway, he convinced Mr. Shue to let me audition, and I did made it and now he's helping me with my singing. That's it."

Her mother continued to glare. In an instant, she softened, sitting on Lori's bed. Lori never took her eyes off of her.

"Is he cute?" her mother asked, smiling widely, obviously trying to be the 'cool' mom once again.

She actually had to think about this question.

"I guess…I mean, I don't know. Sorta." She scrunched her nose in thought. "But not like 'I want to date him' cute, more like…" She thought hard. "More like 'I kinda want to give him a hug' cute."

Her mom's face changed from fake excitement to puzzlement.

"O…k…" she said, standing up and fixing her hair. "Dinner is in fifteen minutes. Good luck finding a song."

She went back to the screen.

GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE

The next days practice began with Kurt darting into the auditorium almost seven minutes after Lori had. His usually perfect hair was windblown from running, his face was stark white, and he was panting heavily.

"Sorry—I'm—late—" He leaned on the stage, trying to catch his breath. "Do you—know a guy—named—Azimio?" he panted.

"No," she answered timidly. She was getting nervous.

"Number one on your—'to avoid' list." He was slowly but surely catching his breath, and regaining the color in his cheeks. "He's taken over for Karofsky."

"Who?" Lori asked.

"Dave—never mind. Long story, I'll tell you some other time…What song did you pick?"

She sang 'Our Song' once a cappella, and looked to Kurt for approval, or criticism. He came over to the edge of the stage.

"First, don't take the mic off the stand next time. I want to see if that helps. Second, I want you to look at your audience."

"But you're the only one here…"

"Then look at me!" he said, shrugging and throwing his hands up.

"O-okay."

Kurt ran back to the rear of the auditorium, and Lori grabbed the mic stand. Trepidation pulsed through her. She had barely ever sung anything _for_ someone, and she had just been asked, point-blank, to sing _to _someone. Sure, it meant nothing, but it was, in fact a love song, and she had, in fact, just met him on Tuesday. Wait, she thought to herself. Was it only Tuesday that she had stumbled into the choir room, and asked for an audition? Was it only Tuesday that she had found a group of people to identify with? Was it only three days ago that she had found what she hoped to be her first real friend since second grade?

This happy thought filled her, and gave her an energy she didn't know she could possess at school. As she began to sing, she held tight to the mic stand, it swaying with her, and kept a tight eye contact with Kurt. Even from their distance, she could see they were a bright, almost surreal blue. _Pretty,_ she thought, in spite of herself. But it was true: Kurt did not have the stereotypical, sporty, effortless, just-rolled-out-of-bed kind of good looks all of the 'popular' guys on TV had. Looking at him even closer, she would even hesitate to call him 'handsome'. For lack of a better word, he was pretty.

Practice ended on a high note, and come time for her to perform the next day, she was ready. Holding on to the mic stand tightly, she sang her song…to Kurt.

For weeks her schedule went on like this. Glee every other day and practice in between with Kurt. Every now and then his phone would ring, and she would take another attempt at getting him to spill who the sender was, but he never caved.

A week went by, and though she only saw her new friends at meetings or practice, though she still sat alone reading at lunch, she finally felt like she had a connection to a group. Two weeks went by, and she had actually started having non-singing related conversations with members of the club after meetings or on Facebook ("Do you drink coffee?" she was asked on more than one occasion).

In the middle of her third week, she flew down to the auditorium already humming a peppy tune she had picked out, and ready to accept the ever consistent stream of advice from her mentor and friend. But when she got to the front row of seats, Kurt was setting up a second microphone.

"You ever seen 'Chicago'?"

"Duh," she said, dropping her backpack and skipping over to the stage.

"Know the song 'My Own Best Friend'?"

"Duh." She smiled as she climbed on to the stage.

"Grab that mic," he instructed as he twisted his own off the stand.

She was stunned. The song lyrics ran through her head, along with the scene from when her school had performed the show. Roxie and Velma sitting on a darkened stage. Just two chairs and two…people. _A duet_. Her heart fluttered. She went over to the microphone and held it tight, waiting for further instruction.

"Now, people have this idea that duets are always mushy, gushy love songs, but that's not true. You know this song, so you already get that. Anyway, being able to sing with someone is an important skill in glee club, or any future you might want to have in singing."

"But I don't want—"

"And it's just nice to be able to sing with someone. Debunking the stereotype aside, it is very romantic…"

He was staring into space, with that dazed, blissful smile he had worn that first practice, but she was kinda used to it now. She coughed into the microphone.

"Yes…alright. I have the karaoke version in my phone, so, just sing. Be conscious of my voice, too, but make sure you are certain of what you're singing. I'll do Roxie, just to start off. Ready?"

She swallowed hard as he tapped the play button. "Ready."

"_There's only one person who can help ya now, Roxie," _he said, a certain bravado behind his voice unlike she had heard before. It was very clear to her, now more than ever, that the stage was his element.

"_There's only one person you can count on now, Velma," _she added in, feeling very insecure next to him.

"_One thing I've known…_" And they sang.

As the song progressed, her confidence built, until she had no doubt in her mind about whether or not she belonged in the glee club, or whether or not she belonged on that stage, or whether or not she belonged singing next to Kurt.

When the song was over, she was breathing heavily and smiling widely at her empty audience. She then remembered why she had sung this song. As Kurt slid off the stage, she clapped a few times, and watched as his cheeks turned red again.

"That little choir room does you no justice," she said.

"You either." He stuck his phone into the pocket of his jeans and fixed the front of his hair.

She sat in delighted silence, basking in the glow of one very, very good song, until something broke it.

"I swear…" he mumbled, smiling as he silenced his ringing phone. After a second of writing, he began to reply. Not expecting anything more of a response than she had ever received the past few weeks, she asked,

"Who is it?"

And Kurt, absentmindedly pacing back and forth in front of the stage, answered with a sigh, "Blaine."

It suddenly got very, very quiet. Kurt had stopped pacing, and the hum of the song lingering in Lori's ears had ceased. The air in the room was still, and the tension almost caused her to stop breathing for a second. He glared at her, obviously having spoken without thinking, and she swallowed hard. His knuckles turned white as he grasped the phone tightly.

"I told you I wasn't lying," he said, smiling nervously. "I told you it wasn't my girlfriend."

_Duh, _she thought to herself. After another awkward moment, she relaxed.

"Blaine?" she asked.

He nodded slowly.

"Does he sing?"

There was a pause and then he said with a sigh, "Like an angel." They both smiled, and he finished typing just as the bell rang.

"See you in glee tomorrow," he said, heading towards the door.

"Bye." And she walked the opposite way. Suddenly she turned around. "Tell Blaine that your protégé says hi…and that you're an awesome teacher!"

She heard him laugh as they both left the auditorium their separate ways.


	4. Confrontation

**Please enjoy the following, and don't hate me too much as I vomit my nerdiness all over poor, unsuspecting Lori….I mean, we can just **_**tell**_** that Blaine's got his geek on, but Lori? Once, she had hope…then I wrote her story, and it was all down hill from there. Sad, it's true, but what can I say? She's me, if I were lucky enough to be able to sing and/or be in the presence of Kurt. Please, enjoy the proceedings.**

She sat in the corner of the coffee shop that Sunday, reading the seventh _Harry Potter_ book…finally. She had drained her tea an hour ago, but was too immersed in the story to get up and leave. She liked the coffee shop: the way it smelled, the cozy atmosphere, the ample number of subjects to satisfy her people watching habits. Since she was ten her mom had let her come by here alone, to read or do homework or draw, and she always sat in the back corner. For some reason, even if the rest of the shop was full, that corner table remained empty, as if expecting her. Suddenly, she felt a tap on her shoulder.

"Oh! Sorry! I'm just leaving—" But when she turned around to go, she came face to face with Kurt…and he wasn't alone.

The boy beside him was about the same height, maybe a little shorter than Kurt, but still towered over her. His hair was thick, black and curly—so were his eyebrows—his eyes were a deep hazel, and his smile was wide and warm. He emitted an aura of confidence, of friendliness, of openness, that even just having met him, she had already taken a liking to.

"Hi," he said, sticking out a hand. "I'm Blaine." His voice was smooth, and as she shook his hand, she could only imagine that he would be a great singer. How had Kurt put it? _Like an angel?_

"I'm the moron that keeps interrupting your practices," he said. "Sorry 'bout that." He laughed, shrugging, and looked at their hands, still shaking slowly…

"Oh! I'm Lori!" she said, taking her hand back and setting it protectively on her book.

She watched his eyes as they moved hurriedly back and forth between Kurt and her, before coming to rest on her hand on the table. The smile on his face grew.

"Mind if we join you?" he asked politely, motioning towards two empty chairs against the wall.

"Oh, no! Yeah, sure!" for some reason she couldn't speak.

"Okay," Blaine said, after they had retrieved their chairs and sat across from her. "First time reading it?" He pointed to the book in her hands, an excited grin plastered to his face.

"Uh…yeah," she answered.

Blaine gasped dramatically.

"You're a freshman in high school, and you haven't read the whole _Harry Potter_ series?" He stared at her, laughs escaping around the façade of false shock he had put on.

"I know!" she sighed. "I'm a loser. But I'm getting close!" She picked up the book and showed him where her bookmark lay about fifty pages off from the very center.

"You've got to get going!" Blaine said, eyeing the book. "Looks like you're only on chapter…" he stared at the book, squinting his eyes. "Twenty-one?" he asked, tilting his head to the side and raising one eyebrow.

Her eyes grew wide.

"Just finished it actually," she said. Then she covered her mouth, beginning to chuckle. "I was just going to ask you the nerdiest question ever."

"Go on, ask!" Blaine seemed excited.

"No! I'll sound like such a looser!" She had one hand over her mouth, still stifling a laugh.

Blaine leaned forward. "I've read them all five times," he said under his breath, taping the cover of the book with his finger. "I've got a pair of Harry Potter glasses, a striped scarf, and a stuffed snowy owl sitting on a shelf in my room that I practically pray to. I can quote Rowling without even thinking about it." His eyebrow went up once again. "Your question sound nerdy now?"

_Persuasive, _she thought. _Very, very persuasive._

"I was going to ask you…" she snorted back a laugh. "How long you studied legilimancy." She buried her face in her hands, having turned bright red, completely aware that she was about to embarrass herself. "Because you practically read my mind." She sunk lower and lower in her chair, still shaking with laughter. Blaine snorted and shook his head back and forth.

"Don't mind me," Kurt suddenly chimed in. he was watching the two with a look on his face that could be no better described than as amused. "I guess I'm just too preoccupied with reality."

"You should really try giving that whole realism stuff up for a while," Lori said as she sat up straight and wiped her watering eyes. "It gets boring after a while."

"Muggle," Blaine whispered to Lori behind his hand.

"What?" Kurt asked, looking up from his phone.

"Oh, nothing!" Blaine wrapped an arm around Kurt's shoulders and shook him playfully.

It was only then, when they were close enough so that their heads bumped against each other, that Lori really took a look at them as a couple. To begin with, Blaine absolutely _did _havethe stereotypical, sporty, effortless, just-rolled-out-of-bed good looks of a high school guy, and was almost rugged in comparison to Kurt. _He_ was handsome. She thought for a moment that that was probably the reason she couldn't get a word out. He was freakin' gorgeous: The term, 'Greek god' came to mind. _Damn_, she thought, sighing. Suddenly, a familiar sound pulled her back to reality. Her phone was buzzing in her pocket.

"Sorry, guys. That's my mom. She's here to pick me up." She gathered her book and cup. "See you tomorrow." She waved over her shoulder. "Nice to meet you, Blaine!" And as she was leaving, she heard him call back, "You too!"

"Who was that you were with?" her mom asked once she had gotten into the car.

"Kurt," she said. "And Blaine."

"Oh, fantastic! Two boys I have to worry about, now!" Lori rolled her eyes. "Is Blaine a senior, too?"

"Yes, mom, but—"

"You know you're only fourteen, dear!"

"I know, but mom, listen, they're—"

"I'm not sure if you're ready to date yet, Lori!"

"Mom—!"

"God knows _I'm_ not ready for you to date yet!

"MOM!" Lori screamed, and her mom brought the car to a screeching halt in the middle of the parking lot.

"What?" she snapped.

"You've been asking me questions about this every other day for the past month! For the last time, I am _not_ dating Kurt…_or_ Blaine, for that matter."

"I know you aren't now, but in a while—"

"Mom, they're dating each other," she said flatly.

"I understand but—_ooooooh_. I get it now." After a few moments of silence, her mother spoke again. "Shame. Mr. Curly was kinda cute."

Reflexively, Lori's head dropped into her hands, sighing in exasperation. Her mother never bugged her about boys she talked about again…that year.

GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE

Leaves had begun to fall, and there was a definite chill in the air that day, almost a month and a half into her freshman year. She had fallen smoothly into a set routine that if changed for any reason, had a miserable effect on her day. When she left geometry that Tuesday for glee, she was already humming the light tune she was to sing in a few minutes, confident with it after yesterday's practice had ushered not a single critique from Kurt.

She picked up her pace a little as she rounded the first corner in a series of twists and turns on her way to the choir room, barely paying attention to where she walked. She could get there with her eyes closed. Suddenly, though, it was like she hit a brick wall.

"Where you going, pipsqueak?" a mountain of a guy in a football jacket asked. His face reminded her of a bulldog.

"Yeah, kid, where you going?" A smaller, younger looking jock stepped out from behind him. She recognized him instantly from her gym class…_Oh, fudge_.

"Glee club. Now if you'll excuse me—" But when she tried to push through them, they grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her back.

"You don't want to go there," the big one said.

"Yes, I do." For some reason, she wasn't afraid. Maybe it was because of her brother and his occasional bits of violence when they were little. Maybe it was just because they both looked kinda dumb.

"No you don't, girly." The smaller one laughed, taking something out from behind his back.

"Yeah, only freaks are in glee, and you look half normal." They were slowly backing her into a corner.

"Well excuse me for not habituating a stereotype!" she screamed, kicking the shorter one in the shins. The object fell from his hands, and when it hit the floor it spilt bright red slushy across the tile.

"Oh! Feisty little freshman!" The tall one grabbed her other shoulder and held her against the wall. The small one cracked his knuckles behind him.

Suddenly, she noticed a name embroidered on the sleeve of his jacket.

"So you're the infamous Azimio?" she asked, scowling in a deliberate attempt to look tougher.

"That's right!" The short one said, pounding the wall beside her and making her flinch.

"You're Eric," she said. "You're in my gym class. Not even two months in high school and you're already corrupted by this caveman?" She shook her head. "It really is a shame. I thought you had a brain for a second!"

Eric's face got red, and he snarled out a few swears at her.

"Cool it!" Azimio said. "She's messing with us. Prob'ly learned _that_ from those freaks in glee too."

"Are you so intellectually limited that 'freak' is all you can come up with?" She raised an eyebrow, and Eric huffed again.

"I'm not sure what you just said," began Azimio. "But I'm guessing it was an insult. We don't take insults from _freaks_."

"And we don't talk with 'em about it neither." Eric had gotten in her face, in front of Azimio. "We do something about it."

"Oh, I'm so scared," she said blandly. "What, exactly is _you_ beating _me_ up going to do?"

The boys looked at each other, puzzled.

"If anything, I'd say it would make you two look like a couple of wimps." As she spoke, she slowly inched her leg forward. "Yeah, I mean, wait until the other guys hear about this. Wait until they hear that it took two of you to beat up little old me."

They kept their hold on her, but looked more confused than threatening.

"Especially when they hear…" she paused, and they leaned in closer. "That this little freshman girl…"

"Get on with it, freak!" Eric's fists were clenched and turning white.

"This freshman…" she whispered. "Is going…" she paused to laugh. "TO KICK YOUR ASS!" And in one movement, she swung her leg up, into Azimio's crotch. He bent over in pain, knocking his head into Eric's and knocking Eric's head into the wall. All too soon after they released her, though, they stood up, infuriated, and took a step towards her.

Over her shoulder, she heard someone clear their throat.

The piano guy—Brad?—had rounded the corner, a stack of papers under his arm. His eyes darting between the boys and eventually to Lori, he sighed. While Lori tried to look scared, and the boys tried to look innocent, Brad grabbed her arm and walked her swiftly down the hall.

"Have fun playing with your balls, gentlemen!" she hollered over her shoulder. Brad walked faster. When they were out of earshot of Azimio and Eric, they slowed and he spoke.

"What exactly happened back there?" His voice was gruff, and seemed like he barely used it.

"They cornered me," she said, trying to sound like the victim she was.

"And…?" He pressed on.

"They threatened me."

"And…?"

"I kicked the big one in the balls." She hung her head. Expecting to get lectured on violence, like any other teacher would have, she was not prepared for what came out of his mouth next.

"Finally," he sighed.

She was shocked.

"W-what?" she asked, completely baffled.

"I've been watching these kids—who I really am fairly fond of—get beat up every other day. It had been driving me nuts!" His mustache twitched in frustration. "Figgins and everybody thinks Will—sorry, Mr. Shue, is the only one in there with the kids' best interests in mind. They forget that I've witnessed the drama, too." He paused, his eyes distant, reminiscing. "Do you know how many couples have been made or broken with me just sitting there?" He laughed. "I could probably tell you about every single time that Berry girl has marched out of that room in a fit…and there have been a lot of times." Lori giggled. "And I know, for a fact, that your friend Kurt _can_ hit the high F in that song you auditioned with."

"Wait, what?"

"He hasn't told you about that fiasco?" He snorted a laugh. "Ask him about it sometime…I swear, the things these kids have gone through. Every single one of them could fill a book about their lives the past few years. Just because they don't fit the mainstream doesn't mean they deserve this."

She nodded slowly, unable to do or say anything more.

"Missed him when he left for Dalton, I did. He was one of the only ones in there with his head screwed on right half the time. Always asked for Broadway stuff, too; my favorites lots of the time."

She kept nodding, but something hit her. "Wait, what do you mean he left?"

"_Shoot_!" he said. His voice had an odd kind of twang to it, like he was from the south. "He really hasn't told you too much, has he?"

"He's mentioned things here and there…he said something about 'Defying Gravity' once…"

"Interesting, he is. Very interesting. Get him talking some time, I bet you'd be surprised."

They had reached the door. As they stepped inside, she saw Mr. Shue pacing impatiently in front of the piano, and Kurt and Mercedes looking nervous. All of that faded away when Lori waved and Brad sat down at the piano bench, handing Mr. Shue the pile of what she could now clearly see was sheet music.

"Where were you?" Mercedes screeched, throwing her hands up.

"I got…held up." Lori tried to act nonchalant.

"What could you possibly mean by 'held up'?" Kurt seemed no more relaxed.

"In the hall…" she began nervously. "I ran into a couple of guys on my way here. I got shoved up against a wall, threatened a couple times; I called them dumb once or twice then kicked that Azimio knucklehead in the balls. End of story."

Kurt was stunned.

"What?" she asked, taken back by their silence.

"Y-you…" Kurt choked on his words.

"I have a brother that's six years older than me and plays football. You call it confrontation, I call it survival." She shrugged. No one talked.

She suddenly noticed the entire club was staring at her, Mr. Shue included. Laughing nervously, she waved a little.

"Alright," Puck said, pulling a wad of cash from his pocket and handing it to Santana. "Freshman's cool."

"While I don't condone violence," Mr. Shue started. "I'm glad you were able to stand up for yourself…and make it back here in one piece. Now, guys…"

"I still don't get it, how'd you end up getting here with…" Mercedes racked her brain for the name.

"Brad. He kinda saved me. Told me some interesting things, too."

"Wait," Mercedes stuck her hand up. "He _talked_? Like had a conversation with someone? That guy? At the piano?"

"Yeah." She shook her head. "And speaking of conversations, tomorrow, practice, I need to ask you some things."

Kurt furrowed his brow, but nodded.

"Mercedes?" She leaned over Kurt. "Are you free to meet us in the auditorium tomorrow during third period?"

"I think so, why?"

"Reference."

**I TOLD YOU BLAINE WAS COMING! And I am sorry for making his first appearance so brief, but at least to Lori, there were more important things to get on with than staring at his hair…*drools*. Anyway, I kinda like making her a sorta bad-ass. This is essentially what I wish I could do in my own life, and I'm not saying that Eric isn't a real guy. I hope you liked everything in my past few chapters as well, sorry I forgot to put author's notes on them. I really do love how we learn about Blaine, but you all knew that already, didn't you? Excuse the language (or lack-there-of) I try to keep the cussing to a minimum cuz I'm just one of those people. Oh, well. ****Please****, I beg of you, if you are reading this story, leave me a review. I have enabled anonymous review for this story so even if you aren't a member of FanFiction it should let you say something. Please! None of my friends get the whole creative thing, and my mom refuses to watch Glee. (I know, right?) So you, lovely people of cyberspace, are my last hope. **

**Peace out.**

**~C.C.**


	5. Hard Truths and Best Friends

**Really emotional chapter, I'm warning you. It isn't my favorite because I think it gets a little repetitive, but I do like it. Dear 'Number1KurtHummelFan', I thank you most sincerely for your constant presence and hilarious reviews. Please enjoy.**

She spent the next weekend practicing her part for the club's first group number, and digesting what information she had wrenched out of Kurt and Mercedes. Admittedly, it took work, but after explaining to them about her lonely elementary school career, miserable middle school existence, and the fact that glee was her first experience with real friends, they had begun to share tidbits about their own lives.

Starting almost three years ago at the beginning of their own sophomore years, they hard run her through every significant event of their high school lives: Crushes and full blown relationships, scandals, dramatics, traumas, shining moments and rock bottoms alike.

In those forty-five minutes, she learned the back story to the infamous high F, why Kurt had been transferred and re-transferred to Dalton and back, and in turn, how true friendships are built: on trail, tribulation, and perseverance.

Sunday night came, and she was still thinking abut that. Suddenly, a terrible realization hit her: she would not have everything Kurt and Mercedes and the rest of everyone in glee had. In less than a year, they would all be moving on with their lives, leaving her and Mr. Shue to hold up a one person glee club by themselves. Staring out the window into the windy, barren autumn night, she tried to hold back the knot building in her throat.

GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE

She got to glee early the next day, and sat in her normal seat, staring down at her knees the whole time. Rachel appeared in the door behind her. After a minute of tense silence, Lori could take it no longer.

"Rachel, are we friends?" she asked, leaning forward behind her and speaking directly into her ear. Rachel turned around sharply.

"Define friends." Her tone was brisk.

"I mean, we're pleasant to each other, we work well in glee together. We're friends, right?" She raised an eyebrow.

"If you're using that broad description, than I suppose we are."

Lori smiled and waited a moment before continuing.

"Who were your friends before glee, Rachel?"

Rachel seemed taken aback.

"I wasn't the most popular person before glee,"—she wanted to remind her that she wasn't the most popular person now, but decided against it—"I had a…_limited_ group of friends."

"…Were you like me?" Lori had set her head in her hands, propped up on her knees.

"I…W-what exactly are you like?" Lori could tell Rachel was trying to remain composed.

"Kind of alone. Ambitious, but not sure what about." Rachel turned her head, avoiding Lori's eyes. "Looking for a place to belong. Looking for people who didn't care whether or not you dressed the right way, or listened to the right kind of music, or can only talk for extended periods of time about books or Andrew Lloyd Webber."

"I—I—I…"

"It's okay if we're not. Friends, that is, or alike. I just wanted to know if I had a chance at becoming like you one day."

Rachel sat, facing an empty piano, absolutely struck. A part of her wanted to storm out of the room, huffing and puffing about why no one else was there on time, leaving her to be subjected to Lori's incessant ramblings, but another part of her wanted to turn where she sat and give Lori a really big hug. Someone wanted to be like her. Someone looked up to her as something to achieve.

"Why do you ask?" Rachel questioned, forcing eye contact while still trying to remain distant.

"Because I was thinking this weekend…about glee and life and stuff, and I realized that I won't have this for very long."

"What do you mean?" Rachel could no longer help but feel bad for Lori.

"I mean, in just a few months, you, Mercedes, Kurt, everybody here will be gone. No doubt off to some kind of art institute in New York or Los Angeles, or somewhere, to pursue your inevitably _insanely_ successful singing careers." She sighed heavily. "By the time I graduate you'll have made contacts and auditioned for all sorts of things and probably gotten at least one job."

Lori sighed.

"I'd help you, you know," Rachel said, surprising herself. "When—if I made it big, I'd do whatever I could to help you get your footing in the business."

"Oh, no!" Lori sat back, waving her hands. "I would never want a career in show business! Thank you, but that is not what I want to do with my life."

Rachel gasped.

"You don't?"

"No! Singing is a hobby for me, nothing more than that."

All of a sudden, Rachel felt better about Lori.

"Then where does your passion lie?" Rachel had suddenly gotten very serious.

"Um…I don't know," Lori had gotten uncomfortable.

"Well, what do you do?" Rachel was smiling, but it didn't help the way Lori felt.

"Well…I write."

Rachel paused, quiet in contemplation.

"What do you write?"

"Creative stories, mostly. Sometimes I just drabble on about nothing in particular. I like writing romance stuff. Sometimes it's about you guys…." Lori was blushing.

Rachel asked no more, she was content with the answer she had received. Lori didn't want to disrupt her, but suddenly another question came to her.

"Um, Rachel?"

"Yes?" she sighed.

"Aren't we supposed to be in the auditorium?"

GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE

"Alright, guys, it's that time of year again!" Mr. Shue was pacing across the stage excitedly.

"Christmas?" Brittany asked.

Lori had become used to Brittany's comments, but unexpected ones like these still made her laugh.

"No." Mr. Shue shook his head. "Sectionals is in two weeks!"

There was a roar of cheers from the group, including Kurt, who jumped a little in his seat. Lori, however, was confused. She leaned over in her seat.

"What's sectionals?" she asked Kurt.

"_What's sectionals_?" he gasped. "Only the first rung on the ladder to show choir glory!"

"I'm not following."

"Don't worry too much. We compete with local glee clubs. It's really not that much of a big deal anymore."

Lori couldn't help but find Kurt's casual attitude a little unnerving. Sure, to him it was no big deal, but to Lori who had never competed in anything ever in her entire life, the idea of sectionals made her heart drop into her stomach. The world seemed to fog over; she felt light headed; she thought she was going to be sick.

She didn't know how long she had stared into space, the concept of competition floating around in her head, but suddenly, she felt a hand shaking her shoulder.

"Lori…?" The voice was airy and distant. "Lori, we need to get on stage…" Her mind swam. "Lori…the number…Lori…?"

"W-w-w-we…w-w-w-we, ha-ha-ha-have t-to…" She couldn't speak.

"Oh my gosh…" the voice, which she could now barely identify as Kurt's, said.

"W-we h-have t-t-t-to c-c-c—?"

"Come on."

She was barely aware of her standing ad walking out into the halls, an arm holding her up the whole time. Her first clear memory was sitting on the floor outside of the auditorium, hyperventilating, and her face inches away from Kurt's, who was trying desperately to calm her down.

"What's wrong?" he asked, a hand on her shoulder.

"I-I-I c-can't d-d-d-do that!"

"What? What can't you do?"

"I-I c-can't c-c-c-c-comp—!" And she broke down crying.

Kurt didn't say anything, and for that she was thankful. He just sat down next to her, and put an arm around her shoulder. After a few minutes, after she was able to calm herself down a little, she spoke.

"I-in fourth grade, I went to a s-summer theater camp…" she trailed off, sniffing.

"Yeah?" he said, sounding interested and sympathetic at the same time.

"We put together a play, I was the lead, I was going to have a solo. I felt like a star." She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt. "But I got up on stage, and I saw everyone's parents, and all my camp friends, and even complete strangers who had their undivided, complete attention on me…and I couldn't take it."

Kurt squeezed her shoulder.

"I fainted and fell off the stage…and got a _nasty_ concussion…and woke up the next day in the hospital, banged and bruised and promising never to subject myself to that kind of torture ever again."

Kurt remained silent. It was almost nice: just to sit there, spilling your guts, with a friend's arm around you. She felt like she never wanted to leave this spot on the floor; she never wanted the silence to end; she never wanted Kurt to go.

"I'm sorry," the faint, familiar, comforting voice next to her said. She nodded. They slipped into another deep silence, only her ragged breathing making any sound. Suddenly, he spoke.

"I suppose that it was wrong to assume that since you joined glee, you would be comfortable in front of an audience."

More stagnant silence.

"I can't even begin to imagine what that was like for you."

Still silence.

"_Gosh_ it feels good to be on this side of a situation!"

She looked up at him, confused.

"You have no idea how many times I've run from a room crying—and I don't intend to share any of them with you." He smirked and rubbed her arm again. "It's just nice to be the comforter instead of the comforted for once." He sighed.

In spite of herself, she smiled through her still misty eyes. The silence came again, only this time it was lighter than before, not hung heavy with tears.

"I don't know how we're going to do it," he began, standing and pulling Lori up with him. "But you're going to get you comfortable with an audience, and then you're going to perform a sectionals, and then at regionals, and then at nationals where we _are_ going to win. Got it?"

Lori just stood their, Kurt's hand still firmly on her shoulder, staring at him. She was more unsure of what to do next at that moment then she had ever been in her entire life.

"But first, we're going to go inside that auditorium, and you're going to kill the chorus of that song we've been working on, because it's only Mr. Shue you have to worry about and—"

But he was cut off when Lori reached out and hugged him tight around the middle. Struck at first, he tensed, but soon relaxed, wrapping his arms around her too.

"I've never told anyone that," she said into his shoulder. "About the incident." After another seemingly long, but comfortable silence she added, "You're my best friend, you know?"

And once again, it was Kurt who was crying.

**I know, I hate it too, I really do, but I needed some crying in this chapter, and Kurt's got a reputation. I like how the conversation with Rachel came, and we will most definitely be going into more detail about Lori's writing as we go on, but I don't think that this is going to be a story outlining every detail of the year. We probably won't see regionals (or nationals for that matter) simply because I cannot imagine trying to do exactly what those insanely talented people at Fox do every week. Please warn me if anyone seems too out of character, and ideas or suggestions are always welcome. Once again I remind everyone that anonymous reviews are as welcome an appreciated as signed ones, so feel free to leave your thoughts. Also, if you enjoyed my writing style (or anything like that) I ask that you please enjoy my newest one that I made when I hit a wall here it's called 'The Glees and Their Pets' and it's really just a cutesy kind of thing. I hope to update soon! **

**Peace.**

**~C.C. **


	6. Connor

**I was sitting there tonight, completely zoning out, not thinking about anything at all, when this little scene came to me: It was Kurt with his head in his hands, leaning on a table, looking up at someone and just saying, "tell me." Where in the world it came from, I have no idea, but I decided to run with it—and have by some act of magic no doubt, been able to work it into my previous story. (At first I thought it was going to be something romantic, but this worked well too.)**

**~Number1KurtHummelFan: I don't know if I've mentioned this yet, but I really like your name. Anyway, I figured I'd mention you again in this because you said it made you happy last time and happy readers make for happy writers. So…Hi! :D**

"Tell me," Kurt asked, his head in his hands on his desk. "Why is it so impossible for you to sit still?"

"Because!" Lori snapped. "There is no way in hell you are going to fix me in two weeks!"

"Lori—"

"I'm not convinced you'd be able to fix me if we had two years!" She continued to pace back and forth across his room.

"Lor—"

"I can't do it! Auditioning for you guys was hard enough, but—how many people did you say were there last year?"

"I'm not going to tell you because it's only—"

"I'm going to get up there, and be doing my thing in the background, and all of a sudden, I'm gonna faint, and Finn's two left feet will step on me, or Artie will run me over!" She was breathing heavily, looked very pale, and was biting her nails.

"Lori, you need to c—"

"That's it! I'm going to die! I will be the first casualty ever recorded in show choir competition history! And even if I make it out alive, I'll be the laughing—"

"Lori, sit!" Kurt barked, pointing a finger at the chair behind her. She did as she was told. "Hmm." Kurt raised his eyebrows at her. "You have been called into my sanctum—"

"Your what?" Lori asked as she looked around. Sanctum sounded scary. Sanctum sounded very _Phantom of the Opera._ Neither description fit the drawers of fabric and neat rows of shoes that made up Kurt's room.

"_Not_ the point. Anyway, you are down here because you need help, yes?"

Lori nodded.

"And I will help you, as soon as you calm the hell down!" His hands were balled up into frustrated fists and his hair was uncharacteristically disheveled.

Her heart still racing, she took a deep breath and tried to look more composed.

"Good. Now, you need to understand that what happened five years ago is not going to happen in two weeks. You are not going to get hurt, you are not going to faint, and most importantly, you will not have to worry about a solo."

With this reassurance, a bit of color flooded back into Lori's cheeks.

"So I have enlisted the help of some of the greatest stand-there-and-harmonize background singers I have ever met, to teach you in the ways of performing in a group, _for_ a group." He paused, smiling, his head tilted slightly towards the door.

"Um…are they here now, Kurt?" Lori asked, curious.

"Shut up!" Kurt threw a pillow at her. "They're _ob_viously running late."

"_Ob_viously," she repeated, mimicking Kurt's inflection on the word. She got another pillow thrown at her.

Moments later, Lori herd the sound of a couple pairs of feet on the floor above them—Kurt's room was surprisingly cozy for a basement, but not soundproof—and a knock on the door. Without waiting for a response to their knock, Blaine, flanked by three other boys, clambered down the stairs in a sort of a huddle. Kurt had told her about his friends from Dalton, and about Dalton itself. She expected the uniforms and gavel; she had not expected a group of nice, normal looking high school guys.

"Evening, Lori…Kurt." Blaine said with a nod and a wink.

"Oh, please! Cut the formalities, it's been almost a year. You don't think we know what's up with you two?" The tallest one of the group said as he stepped into the room. "No guy texts that much to just a pal. You're worse than my girlfriend!"

Obviously good friends with Blaine, and comfortable in Kurt's house, he sat down on the floor at the foot of Kurt's bed. There was something about him that made him look smart. In fact, there was something about all four of the new guys in Kurt's room—Blaine included—that seemed…intelligent.

"Lori, meet David…" Blaine said, and the boy on the floor smiled. "And Wes…" A second guy with the same kind of forward-thinking, straight-and-narrow, intellectual kind of aura was leaning up against the wall, and waved politely when he heard his name. "And, Kurt I hope you don't mind, but I brought along someone who could use the same kind of help Lori does."

Standing behind Blaine was a short, skinny, red haired boy with thick framed glasses and a crooked, nervous smile. Blaine stepped aside, taking him by the shoulders and positioning him gently beside the chair Lori sat in.

"This is Connor. He's a freshman, and could use a little help with performance anxiety, too."

Connor spoke, and his voice was deeper than Lori had been expecting. "I promise I won't get in anyone's way; I'm really just an observer, but Blaine caught me singing in the library one day while I was stacking books for detention, and got me to audition." He was speaking tentatively, looking back and forth between Kurt and Lori, unsure of whom to address. At the word 'detention', Lori's brow furrowed, nervous about what kind of people she'd be working with. Connor noticed.

"Oh, no! Please! Don't think I'm a trouble maker!" He put his hands up as if he was asking someone no to shoot. "My friend and I were hanging out in the courtyard at school one day, and a punk from my neighborhood came by just started acting like a real _dick_—" He gasped and turned to Lori. "I'm sorry! Excuse my language, but really. My friend had some trouble keeping up in school, and this guy wasn't getting that. We started shouting, names were called…punches were thrown, and in the end, he landed in a bush, and I landed in detention."

Lori nodded to herself, trying to picture the boy that stood next to her, neatly dressed with his hands behind his back, being anything but a gentleman.

"I guess it wasn't all bad," Blaine cut in. "According to school records, he's the first freshman Warbler in almost forty years." He put a hand on Connor's shoulder. "He's got lots of potential…if we can get around that one little kink."

"What's that?" Lori asked without thinking.

"I have awful, _debilitating_ stage fright." He hung his head like it pained him to admit it.

"Me too," Lori said absentmindedly. She really wasn't thinking about what she was saying; she was trying to figure Connor out.

The neat, navy polo shirt and perfectly creased khakis suggested, to Lori at least, someone who stayed in the box, followed rules, got good grades, and probably had a sickening amount of respect for people. But there was something wild about him. His story and the bravado in his voice made her think that his outward appearance was nothing but a façade. His attitude didn't seem to fit the mold of the rest of the guys in the room. The rest were all comfortable in their prim-and-proper ways, used to standing at attention and biting their tongues. But while the others easily fell out of the formal language of their school days, Connor seemed withheld, not wanting to let his guard down.

"Well, shall we begin?" Blaine asked.

Connor sat on the floor beside Lori, Wes sat on the bottom of the stairs, and Blaine paced up and down the room, completely, one hundred percent focused on his lecture on theory of group performances.

She tried to pay attention, she really did, but after five minutes, Blaine was becoming less interesting and Connor was becoming more fidgety. When Blaine turned his back on them to pace towards the opposite wall, Connor slid his phone onto her knee. It was open to a note and read, "U following any of this?"

She looked around the room before she typed a reply: Wes seemed to have nodded off; David was playing a game of 'Angry Birds' on his phone; Blaine was still facing the other wall, his hands in the air excitedly as he droned on about performing; and Kurt's eyes were glued on Blaine. Quickly, she typed out a reply, and dropped the phone back into his lap: "Not a word."

Connor laughed a little, but not loud enough to distract Blaine as he continued to pace. The second he turned again, Connor typed a quick sentence and handed the phone back to Lori.

"How long do u think this will go on?" it read. Lori took a second to really listen to what Blaine was saying.

"…when you finally begin rehearsals, it's important to understand…" Blaine instructed, a single finger in the air as he walked.

"A while," she typed, and slipped the phone back.

When it was all over, Blaine's lecture had lasted almost forty minutes. In that time, Wes had begun to snore; David's phone's battery had died; Kurt had left what was no doubt a permanent imprint of his palm on his cheek; and Lori and Connor had discussed everything from their glee clubs to their favorite movies.

"Good night, Mr. Hummel," Lori said as Kurt's dad held open the door for her and Connor to leave.

"G'night."

Suddenly, it was Lori and Connor alone in the Hudson-Hummel front yard.

"Seeing as we made it out of there alive," Connor began. "Wanna meet me at the coffee place on the corner tomorrow?"

"Um," Lori stuttered. "Sure. Yeah, that would be great. Is noon-ish good?"

"Noon-ish is great. See you th—"

"Oh! That's my mom! See you tomorrow!" And Lori ran off into the little red car that had pulled up at the end of the driveway.

"Who's _that_?" her mom asked with a groan as Lori buckled her seatbelt.

"Connor."

"And what's his story?"

"He a pathetic little freshman like me that Kurt and Blaine and a couple other Warblers are teaching about performing."

"Oh." Her mom looked forward and drove.

"And I'm meeting him at the Bean tomorrow," Lori said under her breath.

"Oh, you are, are you?" her mom half-shouted.

"If it's okay with you." Lori looked up at her mom, her eyes pleading.

Her mom sighed.

"Is that a yes?" Lori smiled.

"Fine!" her mom said. "If…"

"If…?" Lori hated 'if's.

"Only if he's gay, too."

"Mom!"

"Fine! Go! Have fun! Drink coffee and talk about singing and stuff! Just know that every boy you hang out with is a year you shave off my life!" She dropped her head to the steering wheel dramatically at a stop sign.

"He attends private school. He tutors peers. He got a detention for throwing a jerk that was picking on his friend in a bush…He wears polo shirts."

"I'm not saying anything about his character yet!"

"I'm just saying!"

That night, between staring at a blank page and banging her head on her desk over writers' block, she found Connor on Facebook. She stared at his profile picture for a second: him, in the infamous Dalton blazer, posing for school pictures.

Suddenly, the idea came to her.

**Okay, Clonnori or what? I like it, and as long as you all do too, I will stick with this story line. I apologize for the shortness of this chapter, it just kind of came to me. Like I said—and will say again—please don't hesitate to review, even if you're not a member of the site. I love anonymous reviewers just the same as non-anonymous reviewers. I hope you liked it, and I will keep writing! **

**Peace!**

**~C.C.**


	7. So Not A Date

**I actually wrote the next chapter before this one, so it's kind of tweaked to fit the story line of "Chapter 8: Fate is Cruel" which I will be putting up later tonight. I **_**really**_** don't like doing that, it's just kind of what happened. Enjoy! **

The next night, her mind swam with memories of her coffee meeting with Connor…that ended up being a tea and hot chocolate meeting with Connor.

He had money, she had gathered. He'd gone to Dalton since first grade and had an iPhone and absolutely everything he wore, other than his uniform, had a polo pony embroidered on it. He was also smart. When the question of him speaking any other language happened to come up (and who knows how it did), he mentioned the Spanish Honor Society briefly before changing the subject. He was funny and polite and charming and warm and talkative and somehow still a good listener and he liked animals and he recycled and he had good taste in music and he liked _Harry Potter_ and he played guitar and he was just overall awesome. But more important than all of that, there was something bizarre and intriguing about him that made Lori think that he was an even more interesting person than she had originally thought…

'_You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains,_

_ You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas,_

_ I am strong, when I am on your shoulders,_

_ You raise m—'_

As the time on her clock changed from 2:59 to 3:00am, she turned off her music and rolled over in her bed, promptly falling asleep.

Her dreams that night consisted of a strange conglomeration of the Dalton boys, Kurt's bedroom, one of Connor's jokes about coffee drinkers, Josh Groban song lyrics and her mom's increasingly hazardous driving—especially when she was in the car.

Sunday passed in a haze. To her it was more of just a time between events than a time to do anything. She cleaned her room; she did her homework; she stared at a blank word document; she raked leaves; she baked a batch of brownies; she sang a little; she ate a batch of brownies; she doodled; she took a few laps around her neighborhood regretting the batch of brownies…she really just did things to pass time. She went to sleep at eight-thirty that night, and after two hours of staring at the ceiling, she fell asleep.

The next day of school was hell. She sat through two tests, a lecture on meiosis, a substitute in English who didn't know the difference between symbolism and sarcasm (hehehe…) and a partner in history class that cared more about how _his_ hair looked than why the French Revolution started.

Unfortunately, glee wasn't a whole lot better. Rachel had been denied a solo, so after arriving already bitter, she took out her anger on poor Finn. Admittedly, he was easy to get mad at: Lori was amazed he was able to walk in a straight line. Mercedes sounded great (on the solo she had 'stolen' from Rachel), and according to Tina, Mike's dancing had only gotten better since the lat time they had to compete. When it was all over, Mr. Shue had begun popping aspirins like they were breath mints and Lori was only more nervous.

"Believe it or not, that was actually not bad for two weeks before a competition. I don't think we even had the song picked out at this time last year." Kurt had tried to reassure her as they dawdled down the hall after glee. "I wouldn't be surprised if—" but a phone ringing cut him off. She waited for Kurt to reach into his pocket, and with that increasingly familiar smile, scrawl a text message to Blaine. But he just stood there and looked at her.

"That's not my ring-tone," he said in a very sing-song voice, a sly smile creeping across his face. Lori jumped at the realization.

She pulled out her phone and read the short message: "At the bean. Tea? –Connor"

Unaware of what to do, she tried to shake the look of shock off her face, and pocket her phone before Kurt could notice. It didn't work.

"I know for a fact that you seldom text anyone but your mom, but if that face was about your mom, we need to get you some _help._" Kurt laughed and continued to meander down the hall, a joking swing in his step.

"It's not my mom!" she rebutted.

"Exactly. Who is it?"

"Why do you care?" she asked indignantly.

"Because for almost four weeks you asked me the very same question."

"And you never told me…consciously."

"Still. Spill. Who hath the power to turn ball busting, iron willed Lori into a smiling, giggling little girl?" He wasn't giving it up.

"Oh, God! I giggled?" she groaned.

"Not yet, but the time is near," he said, very matter-of-factly.

"No one made me giggle…Connor just wants to know if I can meet him at the Bean later."

"AND YOU PUT YOUR PHONE AWAY?" he screamed. Lori was genuinely terrified.

"I…uh…he…if…I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO TELL YOU!" She threw her hands up.

"TELL ME THAT YOU'RE GOING TO TAKE OUT THAT PHONE _RIGHT NOW_, AND TELL _HIM_ THAT YOU'LL BE THERE IN FIFTEEN MINUTES!"

"REALLY?"

"REALLY, NOW DO IT!" Kurt was panting from screaming.

A moment later, the message was sent.

"Now, was that really so hard?" Kurt asked.

"YES!" she shouted in exasperation.

"Oh, come on now. You liked hanging out with him on Saturday didn't you?"

"Yeah, but—"

"And he obviously liked hanging out with you, right?"

"Sure, I mean he asked—"

"Then what's the problem?" Kurt sighed.

Lori thought hard. What _was_ the problem? She liked him, he seemed to like her. Enough said, right?

"I…." A surge of courage coursed through her veins. "Nothing."

"That's right, now what are you gonna do?"

"I'm going to have tea with Connor!"

"Yes, you are! And does it have to be a date?" he asked.

Lori paused. There was the problem. There is what she had feared. But she didn't have to. Connor was definitely just another guy friend. Another singing, dancing, _Harry Potter_ reading, guitar strumming guy friend. _Gosh,_ she hoped he wasn't gay.

"It most certainly does not!" she hollered.

"Fantastic! Now, go have fun!" he thrust a fist into the air and turned the other way down the hall. "I WANT DETAILS TOMORROW!" he shouted over his shoulder.

Something told her that practice tomorrow would be profoundly devoid of singing.

GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~ GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE

By the time her mom had picked her up at school and driven her, begrudgingly, to the little corner coffee shop, it was well past thirty minutes since the original text had been sent.

Lori burst through the doors of the shop, completely expecting Connor to have left long ago, but instead, he was sitting in the very middle of the café, reading the cartoons in the paper.

"Hi," Lori said as she sat down tentatively.

"Hey!" Connor sounded excited as he folded the paper. His Dalton blazer was on the back of his chair and in front of him sat a small Styrofoam cup.

"Sorry I'm so late."

"Not a problem. Tea," he pointed to the cup. "With skim milk. I forgot how many Splendas you put in it on Saturday, but I knew there were, uh, a lot." Next to the cup was a pile of neatly stacked sugar-substitute packets.

"Good memory," Lori said, nodding, as she ripped open three packets at once, and dumped them into her cup.

"I pay attention." He shrugged.

After a minute of awkward tea sipping, Connor leaned back in his chair and laughed.

"What?" Lori was confused.

"I was just thinking about how ridiculous this is!"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean the other day, when it was just a spontaneous thing, we couldn't stop talking! But now, I ask you—uh—formally, and everything gets all awkward!"

"Can I ask you something?" Lori leaned in across the table, trying to be quieter than usual due to there very open seating.

"Uh…sure, I guess." He seemed taken back at the sudden change in tone.

"What happened? I mean, with the whole stage fright thing?"

"What do you mean what happened?"

"I mean, the first time I had to perform, _I fell off a stage and got a concussion._ What's your story?"

"Well, I was never _comfortable_ in front of people. Like I said, I'm an observer. I don't do well with _being_ observed. But Blaine got me to audition for the Warblers."

Connor paused, much to Lori's dismay. She knew this much, she wanted to know what was unsaid, what hadn't come up in casual conversation on Saturday.

"And it went well," he continued. "It went really well—for my first time singing in front of…anyone."

Lori nodded. Kurt had told her about the excruciating auditions he had gone through in attempt to get a solo. She couldn't imagine that getting _into_ the Warblers was any easier.

"I sang a little song called 'Voices' by this guy named Chris Young. I'm really a country boy at heart, so I picked something doable."

Lori laughed. _'Country boy'?_

"So I stood up there and I sang it a Capella. Scary as hell, that is. There's nothing to cover up mistakes. No one else to blame anything on." He stopped momentarily, staring into space. "And when it was over, Blaine patted me on the back, and told me I did a great job…have you ever been inside Dalton?"

"No," Lori said, wondering about the strange question.

"Well in their meeting room, there's a brand new oriental rug. Want to know why?"

As unsure about this as she was, Lori nodded.

"Because the second I was told I was in, and someone explained to me about the competitions…I barfed on the old one."

A hand shot to Lori's mouth, and she was immediately confused about whether to comfort him, or laugh.

Then Connor bent over the table chuckling throatily.

"I still think I win," Lori said. "I got knocked out and woke up the next day in a hospital bed."

"That rug was a hundred and twenty years old," he said through his laughing. "The new one cost almost nine hundred dollars. I haven't seen an allowance in five months!"

They sat there, laughing about their downfalls, and trying to figure reasons to top each other, for almost forty five minutes. In the end it was decided that, since Connor had done it in front of people he saw regularly, he was the winner.

"I have just one more question," Lori said when her mom sent her an angry sounding text about dinner. "There are plenty of tables in the back where we could have talked a lot less quietly, and had a whole lot more privacy. Why on earth did you just sit in the middle of the room?"

"Because," he began, a smile spreading across his face. "I have nothing to hide."

GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~ GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE

Her week went on like that. The next day, Kurt asked her about her so-not-a-date, and she told him everything. They did sing a little, mostly just Lori trying to perfect her part of their opening number, but it was something. The following day went as the one before: a disastrous glee practice, a good jeering by Kurt, and meeting with Connor. Right through Friday this continued, and Lori had never been happier.

Finally, she was going to have someone to talk to when all of her friends went off to college. Finally, she had someone who was studying the same thing she was (and not A.P. Calculus—Turns out Kurt wasn't just a pretty face). Finally, she had a guaranty as far as school and friends went.

She had friends. Not just a friend, but _friends_. At least two distinct people that she talked about very distinct things with. Lori's life was fantastic.

**I don't know why I'm so mean to my characters, I really don't. I just like to give people depth, and the easiest way to do that is to put them through some kind of trauma. **

**By the way, I mentioned two, really good, not so well known songs in here. "You Raise Me Up" by my man Josh Groban, and "Voices" by Chris Young. I encourage you all to find those songs and listen to them at least once. They're pretty good. **

**As always, PLEASE REVIEW! I live for them. Just ask Number1KurtHummelFan. She made my day with her "Klainebows"**

**Peace out!**

**~C.C.**


	8. Fate is Cruel

_Fate is cruel  
>Destiny is blind<br>I know I cannot do it  
>And yet, I still try.<br>Until I can try no longer  
>Until I can't remember how<br>Until the impossible changes  
>But, then, I know it won't ever, now.<br>If that makes me seem insane  
>If you think I'm lost without a thought<br>Think of things you love to do  
>Then think of if you just…could not…<em>

She stared at the blinking cursor at the end of the line. Had she done it? Had she managed to sit down at a computer, and with just the thoughts in her head and emotions in her heart, produce something that was half good?  
>She read it over in her head, looking for places to change it, for places where it was less than she would have wanted it to be, but there were none. She thought hard about what had lead to this poem: a week into her training for sectionals, Kurt had dragged her to some warehouse across town. "This is a great place to perform; the acoustics are incredible! I did a number with the Warblers here. You'll sound amazing!" Kurt had told her, but what he had failed to tell her was that when she had arrived, she was to be met with at least three dozen dapper guys...in blazers.<br>Kurt had led her up to a small platform, raised maybe two feet off the ground, and pointed her towards the group. Her eyes scanned them, and caught familiar faces: Blaine, David, Wes…Connor. But the rest of them were total strangers.  
>"Just sing," Kurt had said, as he stepped back into the crowd. After a minute of stunned silence, she retorted,<br>"I can't!"  
>Kurt, Blaine, and Connor came running up to her.<br>"Look, I can't believe I'm saying this, but I want you to forget everything I told you when we first started to practice," Kurt said.  
>"W-what?"<br>"Don't think about the audience," Blaine added.  
>"Just pick someone in the audience and keep eye contact with them. Pay no attention to anyone else out there," Kurt instructed.<br>She nodded, and all three fell back into the crowd. Suddenly, a thought hit her. _Don't look at Kurt_, she thought. _He's not going to be in the audience at sectionals.  
><em>It was true. Her best friend, her rock as far as singing went, was going to be on stage with her, confident as ever, just singing the song, while she searched the audience helplessly for a face she knew. She thought of Blaine for a moment, but then realized she only knew what she gathered from their brief meetings at the coffee shop and instructional seminars in Kurt's room…and what ever little information Kurt himself was willing to spill. All of that combined didn't add up to much.  
>Then the realization hit her: it would be Connor. Connor who she had spent every other afternoon with all week. Connor who had confessed to having the exact same problem as her. Connor who would be there when everyone else had gone on to bigger and better things.<br>So as she turned her iPod on and set it down by the microphone on the platform, she looked for Connors mop of red hair in the sea of navy blue and red.  
>Suddenly, she found his eyes.<br>_ "Do you ever feel, like a plastic bag, floating through the wind, wanting to start again…?"  
><em> The last time she had noticed someone's eyes, it was back in the auditorium at McKinley…and it was Kurt. This time, she was in a warehouse somewhere, and it was Connor. His eyes were green, she noticed, and shined in a way Kurt's had not. While his were deep and knowing, Connor's eyes seemed free and spirited.  
><em>"…'Cuz baby you're a firework! Come on let your colors burst. Make 'em go…"<br>_ Unaware of herself, Lori took a step forward, drawn towards the green eyes that had almost a magnetic effect on her. Connor was standing still, smiling a wide smile at her. She sounded good…really, really good. She gripped the microphone in her hands, trying to be aware of how much she moved, trying to keep in mind at least one of Kurt's rules.  
><em>"…You just got to ignite the light, and let it shine! Just own the night, like the fourth of July..!"<br>_ Why had she been nervous? There was a reason, she knew, but she couldn't think of it now. Now, singing just came to her. It was easy, like breathing. As far a she was concerned, she was doing what she had been since that fateful day her first week of school: singing to a friend. As long as she had someone in the crowd to look at, to find solace in, whether it be Kurt or Connor, she could do anything.

_"…Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon!"_

As the song finished, the crowd of (do doubt bribed) Dalton boys erupted into cheers. Blaine whistled and Kurt was almost bouncing, a smile on his face brimming with pride. The second her head stopped swirling and her hands let go of their grip on the mic, she noticed Connor. He was pushing his way through the crowd from the back, an excited smile stretching from ear to ear. When he reached the front of the crowd, Lori set down the mic, picked up her iPod, and jumped off the platform.

A terrible pain shot up her left leg, and time stopped.

The toe of her shoe had gotten stuck on the edge of the platform, and almost in slow-motion, she felt her ankle twist unnaturally, heard the sound of crunching bones, and saw the ground move towards her as she fell towards the floor.

Then someone was holding her up.

That had been exactly a week ago. Connor and Blaine helped her to Kurt's car, where someone had promptly called her mom to meet them at the emergency room. Her ankle had been fractured in four places.

That was what had lead to the poem. She had been able to do it. Shhe had been able to perform in front of more than ten people.

"If you can do a solo in front of forty Dalton guys, you can definitely sway in the background at sectionals…" Kurt had said as he drove like a maniac to the hospital.

But she was not going to be able to sway in the background at sectionals, or even go to watch. Tickets had been sold out weeks ago. So she sat in her room, staring back and forth from her phone, to her clock, and back at her poem. It was two in the afternoon; they had no doubt performed by now, all she could do was wait.

GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~ GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE

She had fallen asleep at her desk, her leg propped up at an awkward angle. At almost five-thirty, an irritating—but attention getting—ring woke her up. The caller ID said Kurt.

"Hey!" she yawned, rubbing her eyes. "Did we win?"

"I don't know!" Kurt said. She heard the phone move. "Hey guys, Lori wants to know if we won!" And then her ear was full of the sound of cheering.

"I'll take that as a yes!"

"You bet your ass that's a yes! It was too eas—"

"It would have been so much better if you could have come," Mercedes said, obviously having taken the phone away from Kurt.

"Of course!" Kurt's shout sounded distant.

"That's fantastic!" She yawned again.

"You sound like we woke you up or something. What's wrong?" Mercedes sounded worried as she spoke over the roaring bus.

"Nothing…you woke me up!"

"Alright, just checking. I'm sure Kurt will tell you everything tomorrow…and his phone is dying. See you on Monday!"

"See ya. Tell Kurt to lax, okay?"

"_Lori says to lax_." Mercedes' voice was muffled.

"_Tell Lori that—_" And the line cut off as Kurt's batteries died.

Lori flipped open her phone's keyboard and began to type, "ND won! Wooo!" to Connor.

Soon, she received a reply: "That's awesome! The guys didn't. :( Hey, can u and ur crippled self meet me at the bean tomorrow? I got news."

She wondered what the news could have been, but she was too tired to go scrutinize the thought anymore. The minute she set down her phone, her head dropped back to her arm on her desk, and she promptly fell asleep.

**Oh! Cliff-hanger! What could the news be? What was Kurt going to tell Lori to do? Who wrote that fantastic poem? (Just kidding, it was me and it's not that good.) **

**Anyway, if you don't know already, the 'warehouse' would be the one from the time the Dalton gang did "Animal" (if you aren't familiar with this performance, please go to YouTube PRONTO. **

**I am fully aware that I continue my theme of emotionally/physically wounding my characters, but there was no way I was going to be able to write a whole sectionals scene. In fact, there probably won't be so many chapters of this left. I'm starting to think of how to wrap it up a little. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I promise that the next few will not be so short…and that they will probably have more Connor and Lori getting closer to being Clonnori, and probably a little Klaine stuff thrown in there, just for fluff. I have ideas in my head that aren't enough to be separate stories, so I'm trying to work them in here. Anyway, I have chatted enough. Please, please, please, please, please, PLEASE review, and have a great night!**

**Peace!**

**~C.C.**

**P.S. Can someone tell me what "canon" and/or "AU" means? I've seen them in summaries, and I can't figure it out. Anyone who can help me will be rewarded with being mentioned in my Author's note (woohoo…?). I thank you in advance. **


	9. News

**All I can say as I put up this chapter is FINALLY! I don't know why it was so hard for me to get this done! Ugh! It came out okay, I guess. It's not my best. I hope to have something more up by Friday night at the latest. **

When she arrived at the Bean the next day, Connor, who had been pacing out front, helped Lori and her cast-wrapped leg out of her mom's car and into the café.

This time they took a table in the back.

"What's up?" Lori asked, curious. "What happened to 'nothing to hide'?"

Connor hemmed and hawed momentarily before getting up with a quick, "I'll get us some drinks."

When he sat back down, his eyes were full of anxiety. He looked tired, unwell.

"Um…" he stuttered. "I-I have something to tell you that not a lot of people outside of my family knows…And, hey, it really doesn't concern anyone outside of my family…except for my closer friends." He paused. "And that's definitely you."

Lori could feel herself blush.

"Um…my dad was—is an investor. And he's a really good investor, too. Good enough that my mom could stay home in our nice house, and I could go to Dalton." He swallowed hard. "My dad's company just went bankrupt. Half of their employees just got fired. Even long-standing, devoted, _good_ investors. Including my dad."

Then Lori noticed that Connor hadn't bought himself a drink.

"I'm so sorry." Lori put a hand on Connor's arm. "If you met me here to tell me that we can't come here anymore, that's fine! We can sit in my living room! Sure, it may not smell the same, and the tea might not be as good, but that's fine."

"No! No, that's not it at all! Of course we can still come here! Actually, it's not where I _can't_ go that I wanted to tell you about. It's where I have to go."

"You're being vague, and I don't like it." Lori tried to laugh.

"Um…well, this happened about a week ago. My parents have been scrambling through their finances, and they've come to a conclusion."

If Connor took anymore pauses, Lori would have smacked the sentence out of him.

"I…I can't go to Dalton anymore." The pain in his eyes was unmistakable, and Lori felt for him.

"It's okay. You're a great person. Where ever you go, I'm sure you'll find friends. I'm sure they'll be somewhere for you to sing…and I bet they'll be a whole lot less brutal than the Warblers."

Connor laughed a weak, stricken, laugh.

"You don't get it do you?"

Lori was almost insulted.

"Would you stop being so freakin' mysterious? Obviously, something is up and I hate that you won't tell me! Are we friends are not?"

"We're friends."

"Do you trust me?"

"Definitely."

"What are you hiding?"

"Lori…I'm coming to McKinley."

She was frozen. Could it be true? Would she be able to see both of her best friends every day at school?

"When?"

"At the end of the semester. Which is like, three weeks."

"That's—well it's not great. I mean, you'll be leaving all of your old friends, but at least you'll know someone! Two someone's actually! You like Kurt!"

"Yeah…two someone's." He looked at Lori oddly. "You know, you're kinda the first girl I've ever had a friend in. In fact, you're probably the first girl my age that I've ever had a legit conversation with."

They were quiet.

"That was random," Lori laughed.

"Not in my mind. I was thinking about the differences between our schools. The biggest one I guess is the fact that I have to interact with girls I really don't know." He smirked. "That and the blazers."

"Yeah… Hey, it's a good thing you'll be coming to New Directions. I was beginning to worry how Mr. Shue was going to deal with a one person glee club."

"Hmm…"

"You don't seem too thrilled about it."

"Well, you know. The whole performing thing is still there."

"Yeah! I've been meaning to ask you about that. How did it go? I mean, I know you guys didn't win—and I'm really sorry—but how did your whole thing go?"

"Actually, after your incident, there was no one to distract me during Blaine's lectures. I think they actually worked. He kept saying over and over, 'the audience is stupid' and stuff like that. Apparently, they won't know if you fudge the whole thing. As long as you stay confident in what you're doing, no one will know." He laughed at himself. "Or something to that effect."

"So…?"

"So I absolutely botched the whole thing, of course."

Lori winced.

"But I did it with a smile on my face!"

"You're so weird!" Lori laughed.

"Don't call me weird! It's Blaine's advice! Call him weird!"

"Okay, Blaine's weird!"

"Why am I weird, now?"

Lori jumped when the unexpected voice chimed in. She turned around quick and came face to Styrofoam cup with Kurt and Blaine.

"Oh my God!" Lori panted. "Thanks for the heart attack!"

"No problem." Blaine pulled up a chair and sat at the table. "Now, why am I weird?"

"I was telling her about the absolutely _fascinating_ lectures that she's missed."

"They weren't weird!" Kurt said.

"'The audience is stupid'?" Connor tried to imitate Blaine.

"Yeah, okay they're weird."

"Hey!" Blaine turned to him with a look of mock irritation, poorly masking his amusement.

"Oh, it's okay. Weird is cute."

Lori noticed then, that they were holding hands, and as they stared into each other's eyes, the familiar smile that Kurt had worn when she had seen him receive that first text months ago, was mirrored on Blaine's face.

"You two are disgustingly adorable. You know that, right?"

Blaine blushed, but all Kurt did was cock his head and mutter a small, "Yeah, I know."

Then Connor coughed.

"Sorry!" Lori looked to him. His eyebrows were raised in an expression halfway between awkward and entertained. "I kinda don't mind being a third wheel with these two. It's kinda my daily dose of bliss."

Connor chuckled.

"What were we talking about before—" But her phone rang. "Sorry, guys. My mom is a little hesitant to let me come here these days."  
>They all gave her confused looks.<p>

"I know," she groaned. "She's convinced I'm secretly dating all of you."

Kurt choked on his coffee.

"Doesn't she know that we're…?" Blaine trialed off, a finger pointing back and forth between him and Kurt.

"Yeah, but he's not." She nodded her towards a wide-eyed Connor.

"Sorry 'bout that," he finally said, shrugging.

Her phone rang again and she could see her mom's car pulling impatiently into a spot.

"See ya." As she struggled to get up, Connor stood.

"I should probably go, too. Here." And he held her up by the elbow, and helped her to the door.

GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE

Later that night, Lori heard the phone ring, and her mom appeared in her doorway.

"It's Blaine," she said, one hand over the receiver. "Is he one I have to worry about?"

"No, Mom. Can I please have the phone before you scare away all my friends?"

"I'm just checking…Yes, here she is…" And Lori took the phone.

"Hi, Blaine…I'm not going to lie, this is kinda weird." Lori sat on the edge of her bed.

"It's both of us actually," Lori heard Kurt say. "My phone's dead—again, and I don't know your number off the top of my head. So we did something drastic."

"And what would that be?"

"Used the phonebook," Blaine said flatly.

"I see. What's up, guys?" Lori laid flat, her legs hanging off the edge of her bed, staring at the ceiling.

"It' Connor," Kurt said.

"What about him?"

"What did he say he was going to do after he helped you to the door?" Blaine prodded.

"He was going home, wasn't he? That's the only reason he was even getting up anyway."

"Yeah. Sure," Kurt said, and she could almost feel him roll his eyes through the phone. "He came back after you left and sat at the table, staring into space for almost a half hour."

"That's weird." Lori sat up.

_"Oh my God, she's blind as a bat when it comes to these things, isn't she?" _Kurt's voice was muffled and she knew he had his hand over the receiver.

"I can hear you!"

"Look, Lori, we asked him what was up, and he told us about how he's leaving Dalton," Blaine said, a twinge of sadness in his voice. "But once he got started talking about how he'd be going to McKinley, he wouldn't stop."

"I still don't get why this was important enough for you to call my house and get my mom all worried. She's still skeptical about you two."

"We're getting there!" Kurt snapped.

"Well, get to it!"

"Every single thing he said about going to a new school was about you." Kurt paused and Lori knew this was where he had expected a reaction, but she didn't know what to make of the situation.

"He's my friend!" she finally sighed.

"_Yeah_. Tell _him_ that." Blaine's voice had an attitude she would have never expected from him…one very much like Kurt's.

"It's true! You guys are my friends! Mercedes is my friend! …Uh…Rachel—"

"Oh, shut up! You know perfectly well that this is different!" Kurt was almost squealing.

"It is not different! We drink tea and talk about glee and movies and music and—"

"And it is so obvious that he likes you that even I can see it," Blaine was suddenly very serious.

"Yeah. And he's not a whole lot better than you are."

After a minute of tense silence, Lori finally said, "Fine. Whatever you say. But this changes nothing. Alright? Connor is still just a very good friend to me."

The other end of the phone was abuzz with unconvinced "right"s and "uh-huh"s.

"Just promise us that whatever you do, you will _never_ say no to a meeting with him." Kurt's voice was firm, commanding.

"FINE! Jeez…" she began to mumble. "Don't know why guys have to be so complicated…"

"Tell me about it," Kurt sighed.

"Shut up!" Blaine laughed.

"Well…this has been nothing short of bizarre. See you later, guys." And after quick, 'bye's from the boys, she hung up the phone.

**Well, that was cute. I told you I'd be putting in some Klaine for fun—just because I really, really like writing it. So Connor's got a thing for Lori? (Duh.) AND he's going to McKinley, (Duh-er.) I'm sorry if this is getting predictable, but I promise excitement will happen soon enough. **

**Thank you, Number1KurtHummelFan for your information on FanFic terms. **

**As I have previously stated, I think I'm almost coming to a wrap up here. I know how it's going to end (with a teeny bit of FutureFic), but I don't know how we're going to get there. **

**As always, PLEASE REVIEW! **

**~C.C.**

"_**I'm a poem in a prose world: I may be confusing at first, but once you understand me and my style, I'm a thing of beauty." **_


	10. Christmas and Confusion

**WARNING: This chapter is confusing…even to me. The first part is very fluffy, just kind of build up material, but after the page break (GLEE~GLEE etc.) it gets into some serious, story-changing, plot affecting stuff. I do hope you enjoy it. Song suggestion for first part: "Baby, It's Cold Outside" (Glee version OF COURSE) **

Three weeks of wobbling around in her cast while she tried to remain focused on things other than Connor and glee club went by far too slow. Winter break was a fast approaching, and while all of Lori's teachers scrambled to get tests in, the choir room became a sort of sanctuary. Mr. Shue had put up a little Christmas tree the Monday before break—it was now covered in little blue stars. Lori could never stop marveling at the joining of worlds in that little room. Religion, race, age…none of it mattered to her friends.

The Friday before break had brought about a meeting dedicated entirely to feeling good and singing about feeling good. Everyone gave out little presents, and Mr. Shue had worn a Santa Claus hat.

Lori came in on that day smiling like a Cheshire Cat. Despite a broken leg, a confusing…_guy_-friend?—and missing out on her very first chance at competition since her performance rehab, the first half of her freshman year had been pretty good.

She sat down next to Kurt, who was happily humming away. She stifled a laugh. "You kinda look like an elf."

"I do not!" he protested.

Lori eyed him again. A red sweater and black jeans wouldn't make anyone else look like an elf, but there was something about Kurt that just did.

"Whatever."

The rest of glee club was spent caroling around Brad's piano. Brad hadn't said anything to her—or anyone else as far as she knew—since her run in with Azimio, but as she left the choir room, he tapped her shoulder and gave her a warm, 'Happy new year'.

"So, what are you doing for Christmas?" she asked Kurt as they left the choir room arm in arm, buzzed on bliss, him still humming 'Deck the Halls'.

"Eh. Not much. A couple of my relatives are coming, I think. I'll probably end up making Christmas dinner, but that's no big deal."

"Your dad doesn't cook? What about Finn's mom?"

"Neither of them are fantastic, I hate to say. What about you? Any big plans?" Lori noticed they were walking in sync, the boot on her leg she had traded in the cast for clunking along, and smiled.

"Nope. Tree, relatives, presents: the usual."

"Sounds good to me."  
>They walked contently down the halls, still arm in arm, still whistling various carols.<p>

Then, someone else whistled. It was a new song, still Christmas, still pretty, still very close. At first Lori was startled, but judging by Kurt's reaction, she had nothing to worry about.

"Oh my gosh…" Kurt whispered under his breath, trying to hide a smile. "I totally forgot." He sighed. "I warn you in advance:" he turned to Lori. "He's a Christmas person."

Lori was confused. That is, Lori was confused until they turned the final corner in on their way out of school, and Kurt suddenly wasn't beside her anymore.

At first she tottered a little on her bad foot without the extra support she had a moment ago, but as soon as she balanced herself, she finally caught sight of where Kurt had gone.

Blaine had been waiting around the corner, also dressed in brilliant red, a sprig of some kind of plant in one hand and Kurt's waist in the other.

"Aww…" Lori chortled. "Wait, baby's breath?"

"Gimme a break!" Blaine laughed, pulling Kurt closer. "Do you know anywhere you can buy a single branch of mistletoe?"

Lori thought for a moment. Then, shrugging said, "Got me. Do proceed."

It was a short kiss; a more poetic person may have called it fleeting or even chaste, but it was long enough for Lori to get out her iPod and scream, "Say, 'Christmas'!"

She was able to get four pictures of them in their matching sweaters (which was _not_ planed, Kurt would have her know) before he took her iPod and threaten to run it over with his newly snow-chained car.

For the first time that Lori could remember, they all headed to leave out the same door, and for the first time, she had heard Blaine sing.

"_Baby it's cold outside…"_ he crooned as he sauntered down the hall.

Kurt had most certainly been right about Blaine's voice so long ago. 'Angel' was definitely a sufficient description.

_"…They're just like ice…"_ he sang continued to sing his little part of his one person duet.

"C'mon, Kurt!" Lori egged on. "Don't leave him hanging!"

"I don't think so. You have no idea the story behind this song! I refuse." Kurt rebuffed.

Then Blaine cocked his head, and Lori was caught in the crossfire of one of the most effective pair of puppy-dog eyes she had ever seen.

Still _very, very persuasive._

"Please, please, PLEASE!" she begged. "If you don't, I will! And I really don't think that was part of his plan."

With an eye-roll and a sigh, Kurt gave in. "_My mother will start to worry…_"

_"Beautiful, what's your hurry…?"_

So Lori was a one person audience to an impromptu, acapella Christmas carol as they continued to walk down the halls. By the end though, she really was feeling like her presence was less than necisary.

_"…Oh, but it's cold outside!" _

By the time they had swayed their way to the door, it was hard to distinguish where the red of Kurt's sweater ended and Blaine's began. Lori couldn't help but smile.

"Gosh, I want a boyfriend," she sighed.

"I don't want to hear it!" Kurt called over his shoulder as they finally exited the building into a soft snow shower. "The opportunity is hanging right in front of you!"

"Kurt, I'm shocked!" she giggled back. "And with Blaine right there, too!"

"Oh, shut up and have a merry freaking' Christmas already!" He waved over his shoulder, sniggering away, as the blotch of red faded into the white towards the back parking lot.

"Hi," Lori said with a smile as she got into her mom's car.

"Well that took you long enough," her mom laughed back.

"Spontaneous Christmas romance:" Lori replied airily. "Would you want to miss that?"

"I suppose not." And they drove off

GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE

**For part one of my author's note, you may scroll to the bottom now. If you don't care, keep reading.**

GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE

The final night of winter break, Lori sat at her desk staring out her window, devastated.

Four times that week she had tried to get in touch with Connor. Four times she was met with his voicemail or hours waiting for a returned text. Finally, just ten minutes previous, her phone rang. She picked it up as fast as she could, and on the other end was Connor, sounding absolutely overjoyed. Turns out he had lost his phone in the mad scramble to get things ready for a new school—and he was really sorry about that—but he had great news. When he told her this, Lori couldn't help but be excited: the last time Connor had uttered these words, he had told her he'd be transferring to her school.

But when Connor told her about the ski trip to Michigan his pitying aunt had taken him on, and how he had met someone there, and how it turned out she went to McKinley, the high that the excitement had given her only made for a longer distance to fall. It was like someone had stabbed a knife through her heart.

Why she felt like this, she had no idea, though. She should have been happy for Connor and…_Katherine._ He was her friend, and he was happy. But then…why did it hurt so much?

A terrible, sinking feeling came with a thought that was hard for her to bear. Was Kurt right? Had Connor been more than a friend? No. He couldn't have been. She did the same things with him that she did with all her other friends: drink over sweetened tea at the Bean, talk about glee club, see movies…then again, thinking about it, she knew that she noticed the way he would just stare at her as she rambled, or how on the day of his announcement he had bought her a drink, or how she looked for his name on Facebook, or how she hoped every single text was from him…_damn._ She had a boyfriend.

She had a boyfriend, and she was so naïve that she had let him get away.

This thought unnerved her a little. She didn't like to think that she needed someone there to make her happy. She didn't like to think that she depended on anyone. She was ready to rip her hair out in confusion.

Suddenly, her eyes flew to the clock on her wall: 9:17pm…

"Hello?" Mr. Hummel's voice answered the phone.

"Hi, Mr. Hummel, it's Lori. Is Kurt there? It's kind of an emergency." She spoke quickly, wanting to get to Kurt as fast as possible without taking chances with his cell phone's erratic battery.

"Uh, yeah. I think so. Gimme a minute…" She heard him put a hand over the receiver. "_Kurt! It's, uh…Lori! She says it's an emergency!_"

"Hey," Kurt said a minute later.  
>What's—?"<p>

"HELP ME!" she screamed.

"Calm down!" he hollered back. "And tell me what is going on."

By 11:30 that night, Lori had relayed with explicit detail everything Connor had told her about his trip and Catherine, she had explained her displeasure with the feeling of dependence and had made it very clear that she didn't want to hear one word from him about him being—dare she say it—right. During this time she had thrown something against the wall, almost fallen over her ankle boot three times, _actually_ fallen once, and worked herself into tears.

"Calm down," he said over and over. "You'll still have glee club with him!"

"N-no I w-w-won't!" she sobbed. "He s-says that sh-she's shy, but he's gonna get h-her to j-join g-g-glee!"

Kurt swore under his breath.

"Then I guess there's only one thing left to do," he sighed.

"W-w-what's that?" She wiped her eyes and blew her nose.

"Show him what he's going to miss."

"What d-do you mean?" She was slowly gathering herself.

"Go to bed—well, early is out of the question now—but go to bed now, and wear something nice tomorrow, and in glee, you stand up there and you sing a song about the injustices of the world!" That was a direct order.

"B-but I don't know a song about the injustices of the world…" she whined pathetically.

"Oh my gosh…and you call yourself a teenage girl," he groaned.

"I still don't get it."

"How about the 2010 Grammy's album of the year?"

"I still don't know…"

"Taylor freakin' Swift, woman!"

Lori paused. "The walking cliché?"

"It worked for you once."

"I just needed a country song that time!"

"You should know by now: no one picks songs just to suit Mr. Shue's themes. Everyone sends a message with their songs."

"Everyone?"

"Yup."

"So what message did that rounding rendition of 'Walking on Sunshine' portray a couple weeks ago?"

"_Not_ the point," she heard him say thought gritted teeth.

"Fine! I'll do Taylor Swift! I'll do it! But if I make a fool of myself, I'm blaming you."

"I can live with that."

GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE

Monday morning came far too soon after she fell asleep. First period passed by in a haze, and the rest of the day dragged. She saw Connor once, in the halls, and he was alone. Finally the final bell rang, and with a fire in her heart, she made her way to glee.

When she arrived, Connor was standing awkwardly by the piano, a tall, thin, _blonde_ girl by his side. She looked like Brittany, only with shorter hair and less…substance.

"Happy new year, everyone!" Mr. Shue called. "And to kick it off, we have two new members to audition!"

Everyone clapped enthusiastically…except for Kurt and Lori.

"Very nice, by the way," He whispered to her, eyeing her clothes. She had come accustomed to wearing skirts with her cast, but the royal blue v-neck sweater took a bit of getting used to.

"I try," she replied before Mr. Shue cut her off.

"First we have…?"

"Connor O'Brian, sir," Connor piped up, sounding very intimidated.

"Dude, cool it," Puck shot across the room. "This ain't Dalton."

"Um…" Mr. Shue began. "I thank you for your courtesy, but Puck is _somewhat _right. 'Sir' really isn't necessary. Ready?"

Connor nodded nervously and stepped forward, releasing Catherine's hand, and watching her take a seat in the corner.

"Ready."

Brad started playing something with a definite drawl. _'Country boy…'_ Lori thought.

And with his eyes locked on his new girlfriend, he began to sing.

"_Baby, lock the door and turn the lights down low…_"

Lori's eyes grew wide, and out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Kurt's lip curl in frustration.

Son of a gun, he was good.

"_…Just to be your man…_"

Lori mentally slapped herself. She felt Kurt nudge her foot with the toe of his shoe, and when she looked over, he shot her a glance that read, as clear as day, 'Holy shi—'

"Very nice, Connor." Mr. Shue said. "That was a well welcomed change of pace for around here. If you would take a seat and send Catherine up?"

As he made his way to his seat, he put a hand on Catherine's shoulder. She walked tentatively to the front of the classroom and stood leaning on the piano.

"Whenever you're ready," Mr. Shue said kindly.

"I-I'm C-Catherine Monroe…" she said, beginning to hyperventilate. Something evil inside of Lori smiled. "And I'll be singing… 'Love Song'."

She looked over at Brad who gave a polite kind of nod, but the second Catherine had turned around, he looked up at Lori and rolled his eyes. She stifled a laugh. Kurt noticed.

"You and Brad an item now?" he whispered.

"No. I think he just gets me." She paused. "You too, I bet."

"What are you—?" But he was cut off by Brad's playing.

And Catherine's singing.

"_Head under water, and you tell me, to breath easy for a while…_"

Almost simultaneously, Kurt and Lori's chins dropped.

She was awful.

**Part 1 Author's Note: I definitely think 'croon' is an appropriate verb for what Blaine does. Just opinion. :D **

**I very much considered putting up part one by itself, but I figure that it was just too short. As cute as it was, I like my stories to at least have some kind of plot. I hope you liked the fluff before the drama. I also hate the term "puppy-dog eyes". I feel it is insanely misused and much too much of a cliché…but sometime there are no other words. **

**Part 2 Author's Note: Why I had Connor sing "Your Man": when I thought up Connor for the first time, I saw Scotty McCreery in Rupert Grint's body (circa "Goblet of Fire"). So there you go. Why I stopped it there: If I continued to the next 'section' this chapter would be at least nine pages long. So I will stop it here and hope to have Chapter 11 up by tomorrow night.**

**Peace!**

**~C.C.**

**P.S. if there is anyone out there willing to do so, I am accepting prompts to be used in an upcoming chapter. Four non-related words or a ten word sentence/phrase max. I welcome anyone to do so; please keep it P-G. **


	11. Change?

**Dear Devoted readers and casual story scanners alike,**

** Due to the fact that I start finals testing in exactly a week and should have started studying back in chapter 6, this may or may not be my last update for a while. Now, this all depends on how busy I am this weekend and the 4 test-free days following it. Just know that though I may not have anything up for a while—possibly a week—I have not given up on this story and I am completely devoted to concluding it both for you lovely people and myself. And with that, I ask you to enjoy. **

She couldn't believe that just minutes ago, she had felt threatened by this girl. She couldn't believe that Connor had encouraged her to do this. She really couldn't believe how someone could think they sounded good enough to be in glee…and then sound like that.

By the time Catherine had finished her song, Lori had a feeling of ecstasy in her that she knew was wrong, but couldn't help. The entire performance had been a train wreck: even though it was absolutely painful to watch, she couldn't pull her eyes away. Halfway through, she had heard a small noise next to her, and when she glanced over, Kurt face was bright red, his nostrils flaring, his eye twitching, his jaw clenched. It was so obvious that he was trying to keep a straight face that it almost made Lori laugh just to look at him.

Finally, the song ended. Brad lifted his hands carefully from the keys, closed the lid, and dropped his head to it, his shoulders silently shaking. Everyone but Mr. Shue and Catherine noticed. Everyone but Mr. Shue and Catherine were absolutely silent.

"That…" Mr. Shue cleared his throat. "That was, uh…"

Catherine was shaking, and it looked like she was going to faint. Mr. Shue's expression was somewhere between wounded and pitying.

"That was good," he finally said. It was like simply saying the words caused him pain. "Wel—" he choked. "Welcome to glee club."

Immediately, she ran over to the corner and fell into Connor's lap, planting a big kiss on his lips. A monster inside of Lori raged with that little display. She hated it.

"Any takers for the first official performance of the year?" Mr. Shue sighed, rubbing his temples.

Lori and Rachel both stood up, but the fact that Lori was on a taller riser—and Kurt was shooting Rachel looks from behind her—made Rachel sit back down without a fuss.

Lori took a step down from her seat before stopping short and turning around.

"'Tear Drops on My Guitar' or 'Picture to Burn'?" she whispered in Kurt's ear.

"Second choice. Definitely. It's angrier. Now go do it!"

Kurt watched as she stood in front of the piano. Once again, an expression like she had remembered something spread across her face. Suddenly, she pointed at Puck and motioned for him to come up. She whispered something into his ear too, which produced an evil looking smile. He grabbed his guitar and nudged Brad.

"_State the obvious; I didn't get my perfect fantasy, I realize you love yourself more than you could ever love me…"_

Her eyes locked on Connor's, the monster in Lori roared. Where all the pent up passion had come from, she had no idea, all she knew is that she needed to get something out in the open, and singing it was the best way she knew how.

Connor almost looked scared. He had released Catherine's hand, and his eyes were wide. Was he realizing what had happened? Was he realizing how he had made Lori feel?

"…_I'm just sitting here planning my revenge! There's nothing stopping me from going out with _all_ of your best friends_…!"

Her mind shot to Wes, David and Blaine. _Girlfriend, girlfriend…boyfriend, _she thought. Oh well.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Kurt. Smiling widely, arms crossed, he also shot dirty looks towards Connor now and then.

"…_Just another picture to burn_…!"

And as the music slowed a little, Lori hoisted herself to sit on top of the piano, her feet swinging off the side, and crossed her legs. Without the cast, she would imagine that this would have been very provocative…kinda. She set her head in her hands and batted her eyelashes.

"…_And if you're missing me, you better keep it to yourself, because coming back around here_," she winked and blew Connor a playful kiss. "_Could be bad for your health…_"

For the final chorus of the song, she jumped off of the piano landing delicately on her good leg, and practically screamed the last few lines.

"…_Baby, burn_!"

She bowed low, panting, as the whole room exploded into cheers. Kurt stood up, clapping frantically and Lori blushed.

"Fantastic!" Mr. Shue cheered. "See that, Connor, Catherine? That is exactly true New Directions performance looks like!"

She sat back down next to Kurt, who was beaming with something like pride, and glimpsed at Connor's corner. His face was expressionless, but he was looking down, twiddling his thumbs; Catherine's arm was linked in his as she bit her nails.

Mission accomplished.

GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE~GLEE

That evening she sat in her living room, her cat curled up by her side, sipping hot chocolate and flipping through the dwindling Christmas specials still left on TV from the week before. She had hurried out of the choir room that day without stopping to talk to anyone, and thinking about glee club gave her an odd rush of emotions ranging from pissed to heartbroken to empowered. Then the doorbell rang.

Her mom had worked late that night, so she hauled herself off of the couch and marched over to the door. Through the peephole, she saw a vague and snowy figure standing on her front porch. The only distinguishable feature was a mop of red hair, damp from snow.

"What do you want, Connor?" she screamed through the door.

"Please open up! I don't want the whole neighborhood to hear what I've got to say…just you." He sounded upset.

_Good,_ she thought.

She slid in the chain and opened the door as far as it would go, hearing Connor knock his head on it as he tried to let himself in.

"Well," she said, talking to the hand he had managed to squeeze through. "Talk."

"Lori—!"

"Just talk!"

"Fine…" he paused, and as Lori heard him sigh, she could only picture the look on his face. "Lori, would you have counted what we've been doing as dating?"

The directness of the question took her back.

"That depends. Would you count the way we've been acting like as being people who would be dating?"

"What?" The confusion hung thick in his question.

"It would only have counted as dating if you were my boyfriend, right?"

"I guess so."

"So, were we dating?"

There was a long pause, and she heard him lean on the door and slide to sit on the porch.

"Or," Lori began. "Should the question be, 'Were we dating…_before_?'?"

"If this is the way you're trying to ask me about Catherine…she dumped me," Connor said flatly.

Even as mad as she was at Connor, she couldn't help but feel for her friend.

"She said I lied about her being my first girlfriend and that to her it sounded like I was cheating on you with her."

"Well," Lori swallowed hard. "Were you?" She took a deep breath. "Were you lying to her?"

"I…I think so."

Something within Lori made her feel lightheaded and warm, even as the wind from outside blew snowflakes through the cracked door.

"So we return to our original question: were we dating?" Connor sounded beaten, weak.

"I think we must have been."

"Which means that we were…?"

"Yeah. I-I think so," Lori cut him off.

"And now that Catherine's gone, are we still…?"

"Uh-hu." She felt very sure of her answer. It felt good to say.

More cold, windy silence.

"Can I come in now?" Connor's voice was feeble.

"Sure." Lori slowly unhooked the chain from the door and swung it inward, revealing Connor—looking less put together than she had ever seen him—brushing snow off his pants. "C'mon in."

He took a seat on the ottoman in front of the TV and Lori sat back down on the couch.

"So…what now?" Connor asked, his voice tinged with excitement.

"I guess we just keep doing what we were doing. Things don't have to change, you know. We can just go to the Bean, and text each other all day long, and go to the movies and stuff…yeah." She smiled. "Things don't have to change."

"Sounds good to me," Connor said, shifting over to the couch next to Lori. "In fact, that sounds great. You wouldn't believe the crap Catherine was making me do." He rolled his eyes. "I had to ask _permission _to go out with friends, or she'd start yelling about me cheating. Can you imagine?" He threw his hands up.

"I promise I won't make you do that." She laughed. "And you don't have to worry about me. All my other guy friends are gay."

Connor Chuckled and casually threw an arm around Lori's shoulder. "I've been going to an all-boys' school for my entire life. I don't know any other girls!"

They sat on the couch, laughing about their pathetically small group of friends for a moment before Lori spoke.

"I've missed this." She sighed and put her head on Connor's shoulder. "Even just as friends…I missed being able to talk to you."

"I only lost my phone for a week…and you have Kurt."

"Yeah, but you're different. It's nice to have variety."

"I think he'd be insulted," Connor chuckled.

"I think he could get over it."

For Lori, it sometimes seemed that silence said more than any conversation could.

"What are you thinking about?" Connor asked, suddenly noticing the contemplating expression on Lori's face.

"Well, I love you as a friend," she said casually, staring into space. "And I'm trying to decide whether I love you as a boyfriend."

He suddenly went very stiff.

"Well, um…" He cleared his throat. "I…I love you as a friend, too. And honestly, I don't think that anything is different."

"I guess you're right."

More silence.

"I love this," Lori said.

"I love this, too."

"I hate this," Connor then abruptly said.

"What?" Lori sat bolt upright, staring at him.

"I have to go. I told my mom that I'd just be a minute." He hung his head.

"When do you have a free period?" Lori asked, smiling.

"Third. Why?"

"Meet me in the auditorium."

They walked to the door, Connor's arm still around Lori's shoulder. When he opened it, a terrible blast of wind blew in.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she said. "Third period, aud—"

But she was stopped short when he gave her a fleeting kiss on the lips.

"Third period, auditorium. See you then." And with a giddy smile, he closed the door behind him. Frozen, Lori stared at the door, her lips parted in a little half smile. She looked at the clock in the kitchen: 8:00pm…

"Hello?" Mr. Hummel answered the phone.

"Hello, Mr. Hummel, it's Lori. Is Kurt there? It's kind of an emergency."

**I know, terrible ending and its sooooooo short! I do hope you enjoyed this chapter, though. It is with a heavy heart that I tell you that this story is coming to a close. At the most there may be three more chapters. Please, that does not mean you are allowed to stop reviewing! The more reviews, the better! I love all of my readers and I hope you like Clonnori as much as I do. PLEASE REVIEW, IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY!**


	12. The End

**Hello, people of FanFiction! It's quarter to one in the morning, and I am only slightly delirious, which always makes for interesting stories. We have finally come to the end! I know, it's sad, but I think that the final two chapters will be the best. This one is told by an omniscient-third-person, instead of the limited-third-person the rest has been in. It's almost in flash-back mode, which makes for an interesting set-up. I will admit, the plot is pretty much done. The rest of it is very Epilogue like, and may have a bit of FutureFic at the end. Enjoy!**

If you asked Lori about her freshman year later in life, she probably couldn't tell you that much. She knew she had broken a bone for the first time (in 4 different places), she knew she had had her first kiss that year (from her first boyfriend), and she knew that she had met her first real best friend that year (who had probably—directly or not—caused all the other events to happen).

You probably would have expected to hear about the first time she successfully performed—at regionals in the spring—but she wouldn't be able to tell you much. Then again, she knew they must have done well, because she would also not be able to tell you much about nationals that year in Seattle.

No, those mile-markers meant little to her. That year was more about sentimental value, not material things like trophies to mark the passage of time. Sometimes she forgot whether or not she bought a year book, but then she'd think, _of course. _She had the first autographs of the world's next round of celebrities.

Most of it blended together incoherently.

_Bits did stick out to her though._

At the end of January, she had the best 15th birthday party possible.

Thinking back, the word 'party' might have been a bit of an exaggeration: it really was just four people crowded into Lori's living room around a pizza, a bowl of M&M's and a karaoke machine. By midnight though, all in attendance were drunk on life—and Pepsi.

Kurt, Blaine, Connor and Lori spent hours singing demented versions of eighties pop songs and playing truth or dare as the night wore on. Even though Connor was relatively new at the time to Lori's closer circle of friends, he fell quickly into the quirky ways of the music-and-movie obsessed trio. He even threw caution to the wind, pulling one of the kitchen chairs into the living room, standing on it—and after being handed a trilby Lori had bought her brother as a joke—breaking out into the worst rendition of "Billie Jean" in history.

Even though her mom sauntered in and out of the party anxiously at first, eyeing the boys as she went, by midnight, after Lori and Kurt had practically tied Connor to a chair and forced him to watch "The Sound of Music" ("WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU'VE NEVER SEEN IT?") she had calmed down.

No one could remember what time they had fallen asleep lined up on the couch, but it was definitely somewhere between "Climb Every Mountain" and six o'clock am. At which time Kurt and Blaine left quietly past Lori's mom, out cold in the kitchen, and Connor fixed tea for both of them.

Part of her wanted to say that this morning became very romantic, but it didn't. Even after their "official title" had been announced to the world, they acted pretty much the same. That morning was spent discussing Michael Jackson and Julie Andrews over tea and toaster waffles.

_That was one of the more high spirited bits. _

One day in the middle of April, Kurt came running into the auditorium panting. At first, she thought it was Azimio again, but when he caught his breath, a wide, excited smile was plastered on his face.

"I got in," he panted. "I was accepted! I was accepted!"

"Whe—?" But before she could finish he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, rendering her incapable of breathing, let alone speech.

When he finally let her go, he was shaking, clutching a piece of paper in his hands, breathing heavily and looking on the verge of tears despite the ever-constant grin.

"I-I'm going to J-Julliard," he said. "I'M GOING TO JULLIARD!" He threw his hands up and screamed it to the ceiling.

"Congratulations!" Lori said. "Oh my gosh…that's in New York! OH MY GOSH YOU'RE GOING TO NEW YORK!"

They spent a good amount of time that period jumping up and down hugging each other, kissing the paper and crying excited tears.

"What about Blaine?" she asked at one point.

"He got into _Yale! _He's wants to be a professor! Can you imagine that?" Lori thought back to his lectures of performances.

"Actually, yeah, I can!"

"Oh, who gives a damn what he's going to be? That's only a train ride away!"

There was more hugging and crying.

"I'm gonna miss you guys," she said.

"We've still got a lot of time! We have three months of school, and at least one of summer! Don't spend energy on missing me yet!"

_That was one of the more bitter-sweet bits._

And the good came with the bad of course.

Lori never knew how close Kurt and Finn were until the latter got meningitis. She knew they were step-brothers, but never at school had she seen them act like anything other than two dudes who happen to be in glee club together.

Then one day in late May, Lori arrived in the auditorium to Kurt sitting on the stage, staring at his knees.

That day she learned that even thought they had their rough moments in the past, they Finn and Kurt had become good friends—really good friends. She gathered that they kept each other balanced.

She knew Finn had been sick—he wasn't in glee, but that weekend he had gone to the hospital and would be there for the foreseeable future.

"It's alright," she said, rubbing his arm. "He'll be fine."

"Bu they don't know that…they don't even know where he got it…I can't do this again…"

He told her that he had talked to Blaine all weekend and that it had helped…a little. Blaine was an only child. "He just wouldn't get it…" he kept saying.

Lori spent that period sitting off to the wings of the stage, her head in her hands, looking on in awe as Kurt did what he did best: sing his feelings.

"…_Because when push comes to shove, you find what you're made of. You might bend till you break, `cos it's all you can take…_"

In that very moment, Lori couldn't help but feel like she and Connor's constant infusion of country music had an influence on Kurt, instead of all the other way around.

"_…You get mad you, get strong! Wipe your hands; shake it off, then you stand!_"

Lori knew that she would never be like Kurt: she could never see herself being on stage for a living. She also knew she thought about this a lot; every time she watched someone else sing, actually. Especially Kurt…

"…_Life's like a novel, with the end ripped out_…"

She was going to miss those thoughts.

"…_The edge of a canyon, with just one way down_…"

She was going to miss her friends.

"…_Take what you're given, before it's gone_…"

She was going to miss this.

"…_Start holding on. Keep holding on_!"

_That was one of the more melancholy bits. _

Easily the most memorable day of her freshman year was the last. The choir room was full of the sound of heartfelt good byes that were only interrupted by the autographing of year books and breaking into short bursts of song. Finally, though, Lori walked up and sat on the piano.

"Guys," she began, and everyone looked up. "I just want to let all of you know that you were my first true group of friends, and that I will never, ever forget any of you." She nodded at Brad, who began to play a bright introduction to a song of a familiar genre. "So if you don't mind, I would like to conclude the year with the same artist that lead me into this club."

She slid off onto the floor and sat down in the front row between a smiling Connor and aghast Rachel.

"_I said remember this moment, in the back of my mind. The time we stood with our shaking hands, the crowds and stands went wild…_"

She stood and made her way over to Mike, pulling him out of his chair and giving him a nudge towards the center of the room.

"_The night you danced like you knew our lives would never be the same…_"

As everyone cheered on Mike, Lori made her way over to Kurt and threw an arm around his shoulder.

"_You held your head like a hero, on a history book page. It was the end of a decade, but the start of an age_…"

She jogged back to the piano, Mike grabbing her hand and giving her a twirl as she sang away.

"…_we will be remembered_!"

She thought of everyone in the club that she never really talked with: Finn, Quinn, Tina, Artie, Sam, Brittany, Lauren, Puck, Santana… There was a chance she'd never see them again, and that thought almost brought her to tears.

"…`_Cause for a moment a band of thieves in ripped up jeans got to rule the world!_"

She then turned to Brad, and sat down on the bench next to him, her eyes following his fingers on the keys. Who was Brad? Guardian angel? Eyes and ears of the school? A direct, secretive line from the 'freaks' of the world to the higher powers?

"…_If you have children someday, when they point to the pictures, please tell them my name!_"

Once again, her eyes fell on two people: her boyfriend, and her best friend, sitting next to each other, looking at her with matching looks of pride and friendly love.

"_Long live all the mountains we moved, I had the time of my life fighting dragons with you! I was screaming long live the look on your face and bring on all the pretenders! One day we will be remembered_!"

In an instant, the whole club surrounded her—some crying, some laughing—and they just stood there for a second, for the last time as a unit.

Up until then, she had kept the tears in, saving them for this exact moment. But hearing Mr. Shue's voice, hoarse with tears, say a quick, "I'm going to miss all of you," the floodgates opened.

The last memory of the entire glee club together was unclear, tear-filled, and clouded in a mix of sentiment and dread.

And then it was over.


	13. Epilogue

**Well, this is it. This is the final chapter: the Epilogue. This is a FutureFic, which I am admittedly not very good at, but I think it came out pretty good. I would like to thank Number1KurtHummelFan for your constant support and hilarious comments. To all others who reviewed but are not mentioned, I also extend my most sincere thanks. This chapter is whole lot of fluff, really, but I think it's well written and interesting fluff, so I hope you enjoy it. **

Four years after the day Lori got lost in the halls on the way to chess club, she stood, arms heavy with luggage, brother carrying twice as much behind her, a paper clutched in her teeth, and freshman once more.

"I'm going to be fine mom!" she said through her teeth as she swung open a dorm room door with her foot and dropped her bags on a corner bed. "I'm only five hours away!"

"I know, but you're still little!" her mom hugged her head proving the point that, although high school had toughened her and certainly matured her mentally, she was still a measly five foot three.

After almost two hours of unpacking, saying goodbye, meeting roommates and saying goodbye some more, her mom and brother finally left the campus, leaving Lori alone with her stranger room mates.

She lay on the bed, looking at the ceiling, thinking.

Her sophomore year was spent with Connor and the seven new glee kids she managed to draft into the club. Her junior year was spent with Connor and three more people she managed to recruit. Her senior year was spent with Connor, passing the torch onto two juniors who reminded her too much of Rachel and Kurt for it to be normal.

Kurt.

Almost weekly she got an email from him…from Julliard. Sometimes he would ramble on for pages about school and life and auditions and homework and Blaine and the train rides to New Haven and Blaine and waiting in Grand Central for the trains from New Haven and Blaine and Blaine and Blaine. Sometimes they were just a few words.

He got little parts here and there, off Broadway…mostly. With a month left of his junior year, he got a part to understudy a chorus member of a new musical called **_The Greenwich Village Follies. _****Emails pretty much stopped for a while after that. **

** But life went on. **

** Connor turned out to be the best friend possible…and the best boyfriend any girl could ever hope to have. He cried when he learned that she'd be leaving the state for college, and helped her pack, and cried some more when there was no room for him to drive up with her, and showed up an hour after her mom and brother left, having taken his dad's car, and cried again when he had to leave…again.**

** College life was good for Lori. She kept singing, but never took any kind of music course as a major. She wrote, and that's what she majored in. She was content. Sure she missed her friends, but she knew that whatever they were doing, they were happy. Only occasionally did she ever wonder what that was.**

** Then on Christmas of her freshman year of college, she received a letter with a return address to an apartment on the corner of 37****th**** and 8****th****, New York, New York. **

** The formality of the letter confused her for a while, until she got to the bottom. It was a wedding invitation. **

** That summer, Blaine and Kurt flew back to Ohio for a week and got married in Lima, in front of their entire families, old friends, and anyone from out east that could have made the trip. Lori cried the whole time. **

** After the toast, through a room full of friends and complete strangers alike, Lori could no longer contain herself. "You two are disgustingly adorable!" she screamed. Half the room asked if she was drunk after that. Yes, she answered to most of them. Drunk on life. **

** The emails continued after that, the chain reinitiated by Lori after sending—as a joke—a message asking how many coffee makers they got, and received a 4 page email back, detailing how the managed to return five of the six in one day. She realized that she missed his humor. **

** College went by too quickly for Lori. Never did her relationship waver from Connor, even over five hours and almost 400 miles. She made new friends of course, but it was almost impossible to connect to them like she did the people she had met in high school. She would graduate with a double major in American literature and Shakespearian philosophy. **

** For the longest time, none of Kurt's emails said anything about what kind of work he had. (Blaine, on the other hand was another story: most every email said something about his flourishing career teaching AP English in a high school in Queens, while working on his doctorate.) Then, for her graduation present, an envelope with the same New York return address was sent to her containing two tickets: one a round trip flight to New York and back, the other a balcony seat to ****_Wicked_****. She returned the plane ticket and drove their, having bought another seat to the show for Connor.**

** When they sat down at the theater, Connor opened his program and started flipping through the cast and crew, fairly uninterested until he muttered a low, 'holy sh—' and tapped Lori's arm. **

** Between "Cassie Miskell**: Nessarose" and "Corey Machen: The Wonderful Wizard of Oz" was written, plain as day, "Kurt Hummel: Boq."

She spent the better half of act one biting her lip to keep from crying.

Lori also became a teacher, but had a split passion. When she had the time, she worked on her writing. In her free time, she worked on a book that she would later entitle _Changed: The Story of Life_, about a group of high school kids in a small South Dakota town and how the bizarre qualities and strange lessons that brought them together ended up changing each other and the world around them. The summer that was published, nine years since they became best friends, Connor finally asked him to marry her.

She said yes, and between her best friend—even though he seemed to live a world away—and her husband—who didn't care where they lived or what she did—Lori had a pretty good life.

**That's all folks. **

**Peace, love and good music to all of you.**

**~C.C. **


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